Thorstein of the mere; a saga of the Northmen in Lakeland

THORSTEIN OF THE MERE: A SAGA
OF THE NORTHMEN IN LAKELAND.

Thorstein finds Thurston-water

43 fj MERE : A SAGA

OF THE NORTHMEN IN LAKELAND:
BY W. G. COLLINGWOOD.

LONDON : EDWARD ARNOLD,
Publisher to the India OfBce.

PR

T. WILSON, PRINTER, KENDAL.

1895.
(All rights reserved.)

TO R. C.

THORSTEIN is yours. You've made him yours

By masterful appropriation :

As long as right of might endures

I dare no other dedication,

Whatever name allures.

You've seized my copy and revise,
Absorbed the proofs, devoured the pages,
Retold the tale in travesties,
And sketched and played the personages
In many a quaint disguise.

Thanks, Robin : for the wide world o'er

A writer asks no finer flattery,

No kinder fate of all in store,

Than Five-years-old's assault and battery

Demanding more and more.

But now to risk the wider test.
Of one applauding hand I'm certain,'
Let doubts and fears go imconfessed.
So stop the fiddle, lift the curtain,
And, puppets, play your best.

HERE BEGINS THE STORY OF THOR-

STEIN OF THE MERE.

HERE was aman called Swein, CHAPTER I.
who came into our country THE COM-
once upon a time, and built ING OF THE
a house at Greenodd on the NORTHMEN.
Leven. His father Biorn had
had been a landholder in Nor-
way, ploughing his own acres, and living in

health and wealth, until King Harald Fairhair

fell upon the people, and fought with them and

made himself lord and master. Then, it is

well known, good men of the old sort, who

could not abide to see new laws made and old

laws undone, took to their ships and sailed

away west. Some of them landed in Iceland ;

some went to Orkney, and others wandered

about the coasts of the Irish Sea to find a

home ; and wherever they could get shelter and

safety, there they settled.

Biorn, with his people and his young child

Swein, came to the South Isles, as they called

them then, the Western Isles we call them

nowadays. He lived as best he might, and

died at last in battle, when Harald swept the

vikings from out of the seas between Lewis and

Man. But Swein found friends and plenty of

work ; for there was always farming to do in

spring and fighting in summer ; and in the end

he wedded well, and sat down under Bardi

Ottarson, who was then the chief among the

Northmen in the Isle of Man. For by this

time Ketel Flatnose and his folk were gone to
A I

Iceland, and the good King Orry was not yet
come therefrom.

Unna was wife to Swein Biornson. She was
the child of a viking akin to Olaf the White,
the great King of Dublin, and her mother
was Irish. Unna was a notable dame, and
Swein was the sort of man who could serve his
friends ; so that they were both well thought of
in the island, and hoped for a safe home there.
But before long came Ragnwald the Dane, of
the sons of Ivar, he that was king in Waterfofd
for a little while afterwards ; and he killed
Bardi and most of his people in a sea-fight.

Then Swein fled out of the battle hastily,
and took his wife and whatever he could lay
hands on, and steered for the far-away blue fells
that showed under the morning sun, over
against the Manx fells. For he knew that
some of his kinsfolk had already found lodging
on the coasts of Galloway and Cumberland and
Wales, where the land was no man's land at
that time ; and creeks and firths among the
hills gave them sheltered hiding places, well out
of sight when great fleets swept the high seas
and ravaged the open shore.

When Black Comb grew tall on the sky-line,
arose a stormy north-easter, and drove him
down the Cumberland coast, until he made
Furness, the great foreland in the bay of
Morecambe. When the wind fell, the tide
flowed, and carried him up a broad firth like a
gate into the hills. Upward he drifted, spying
on all sides for a good landing spot; and try
2

as he might to the shoreward, he ran upon
sand, and never came nigh the soil. But in a
while he turned round a green point, high and
rocky and covered with trees, standing out into
the deep channel. Behind it was a green field,
even with the water, snug and sheltered among
hanging woods. A great beck flowed through
the field to meet the broad firth. There were
no people to be seen, nor smoke of houses, nor
cattle about in the good lea-land. And the
channel of the river at last came in-shore.
So he stayed there, and called that green point
in his language Gran Oddi, and Greenodd it is
called to this day.

NCE upon an afternoon in CHAPTER II.
[summer time it was that our THE HOME-
>tory begins ; and so long ago STEAD AT
:hat we may live perhaps to GREENODD.
(call it a thousand years since.
jSwein and his people had not

been ten winters yet at Greenodd ; but they

had built a good house, and cleared land to

farm it, and made the place look something like

home.

So one afternoon before summer was over,

Unna sat rocking her baby Thorstein to sleep,

and sewing as she stirred the cradle with her

foot, and singing as she sewed. She wore a

long gown of ruddy colour, long sleeved ; with

a kerchief round her neck, and a housewife's

apron ; but because she was of high birth, she

had a gold band like a crown round her head,

and her yellow hair was tucked around it and

3

fell away unbraided from under a high white
cap. A silken pocket hung from her belt, and
on her finger was a gold ring ; but her jewels
for the most part were locked away in a kist,
against high-days and holidays. For this was
a working day, and every one was busy.

Most folk were out of doors that time of year;
only the mother was at home, minding the baby
after her morning's turn round the farm ; and to
keep her company, an old nurse who, being a
brisk body, was putting in a spell of work at a
standing loom of the ancient make. She threw
the shuttle slowly, and combed up the web but
slackly, for the afternoon was warm, and the
sun outside beat upon the roof of the house and
made it hot. For the house was like one of our
barns with its rafters and beams unceiled : and
though it was heavily thatched, the air was hot
within. It was somewhat gloomy too, in spite
of the bright sheen that lay on field and fell.
Though door and porch door stood open, the
rest of the place was lit only by windows that
stood high up near the roof, in a row on either
side of the long hall : and they were filled with
bladder, which kept out the sun. One spot
there was which had been burst by the
stone-throwing of the boys, and not mended yet
for want of hands in this busy summer-time.
Through the hole a ray of sunlight shot across
the hall, and caught on the chain of the hanging
lamp, and lit up the thin smoke that rose in the
midst. For the hearth fire was never let out if
they could help. Even in summer it was needed
4

morning and evening for their cooking, and bad
to kindle from fire-stones and rotten sticks. So
as wood and peat were plentiful, it was smoth-
ered between whiles just to keep it alight, and
thus went on from year's end to year's end.

The hearth was in the middle of the floor,
then-a-days, raised a little and paved with
cobbles set in sammel clay. One could sit
round it, as you can still at a fire-spot in a farm-
house of the right old sort. And grand times
they had of winter's evenings with their great
chat fires, or else logs of which one end was
out at the door while the other was blazing
under the black pot. There folk would sit
working and tale-telling, and watching acorns
and crab apples roast, and the boiling of their
porridge in that same great pot that hung by an
iron crook and a chain from the house-beam
over-head, the " rannal balk " as our folk, "the
Northmen's children, call it still.

Up through the gloom and the little space of
sun went the thin blue smoke, like a stripe of
rain out of April clouds. Half way to the roof
it was met by the chimney flue, that hung down
likest of ought to a great bell hanging from the
roof tree, narrow at the top and covered like a
belfry with a flagstone laid flat upon pillars,
but opening out beneath and crossed by the
house-beam. And in this luffer or chimney
hung the last hams and smoked meat of the
year before. For at the back end of the year
they always hung their flesh meat against the
winter, and Unna'was too wise a house-wife to

5

let them eat all up before the next store was
laid in, however plentiful the season might be.

You must know this " firehouse " (as we still
say) was the main hall and living room of the
homestead. Bedchambers there were alongside
of it behind the wall, and out-buildings ; not to
say lofts among the beams, and an earth-house
or cellar dug out under the floor at one end of
the hall. But the fire-house was the House, as
one may say ; and in a homely spot like this
backwood bigging at Greenodd a thousand years
since, everything went forward in the firehouse ;
cooking and eating, work and play, business
and pleasure. This was their hearth and home.

At one corner were its door and porch
opening upon the garth, and at the opposite
corner there was another door : and at the
back part were out-buildings rising sharply up
the hill behind. At the ends of the hall under
the gables were great arks and kists against the
wall, and at one end the aforesaid loom : but
along the side were hung the men's weapons,
spears and shields and coats of mail, and their
hunting and fishing tackle, well out of the way
in a row beneath the row of windows, and over
long benches that lined the hall on either hand.

In the middle of the benches were two high
seats, one on this side and one on that over
against it. They were like the great elbow-
chairs or settles you see in old farm-houses ;
roomy enough for three, carved on their high
backs, and with carved heads to their posts in
front. The children had a tale that one head
6

was father and one Was mother : older folk
would say the figures stood for Odin and Freya.
Anyway they were something more than just
ornaments ; they gave a holiness to the place,
and made the high seat of the master as it were
a kind of temple-stall.

Before the benches on one side of the hall
stood a long table, all of oak, like the seats and
the wainscotting and the rest, brown already
with age and bright with rubbing : but on the
other side the tables had been taken off their
trestles and laid up to make more room, and
because half their men were abroad with Swein
at sea. On this side sat Unna in her own high
seat with the cradle at her feet, and before her
the hearth with its thin smoke going up, and
the sun-ray striking through it, and blazing in
the fern that was strewed on the floor. And
when the sun-spot crept upon the cradle she
stooped down and moved it a little backwards,
so that the bright light should not wake the
baby. And when he stirred she pushed the
cradle with her foot and sang again while she
sewed at his shirt. And the loom went
clattering on with the steady noise that is good
for babies' slumber. Nothing else was heard,
except the birds singing in the green-wood
around, and far-away clamour of people working
in the fields.

When the baby was sound asleep again, Unna
rose, and walked softly to see where his brothers
might be : and her gown trained on the ferny
floor. She stood in the porch and called, but

7

hot too loudly, " Ho ! Orm ! Hundi ! where are
you? what are you doing?"

But they were off. And so she sat down
again and sewed till her eyelids were heavy with
the warmth and the dimness of the place.

"Eh, barn," she said, "what makes one so
drowsy ? sleep by day and starve at night, they
used to say."

" Most like a stranger is coming," said the
old woman from the loom.

For it was thought that a man's fetch went
before and brought slumber.

" Few strangers here but bad ones," said
Unna.

" May be it's the master and the men."

"Why, they are gone but these three weeks,
and who knows when they may come back, and
how ? And it's weary waiting, and a deal on
one's hands: let alone the chances of raid and
robbery."

" What, there's Raud thy brother and all,"
said the old woman sharply. " And folk must
live. It would be ill liked if the master never
brought home an armful of finery, or another
hand or so for the farm, or a barrel of somewhat
sharper than we can brew."

"Aye, its a lone spot: not that I complain:
for Raud is a handy lad. It will be a bad day
when he takes land upbank, as he talks of
doing."

" Nay, never heed his talk. He must light
on some one fit first," answered the weaver:
" and how will he do that hereaway, I'd like to
8

know? As for thy man, and my man, and the
rest, they are men, with hands to their elbows
and heads on their shoulders."

"Or had, you may say, to start with," said
Unna with a sigh.

" Heads, aye, and know their ways about.
Look at my old man. These forty winters he
has come back to me the same as ever."

"Aye, he has a cat's life, has old Toli."

"Not so old as that comes to, neither," said
the crone. "And thankful we should be for
our good men and for a good roof over us.
Eh, child, when I think on all we have come
through."

" No fells, no dales," said she: " no loom, no
clatter;" but she hastened to add "I am out
of sorts to-day. There's overmuch to be done
before they come, to redd all up for the back
end. There's yon window now. I wonder if
the ladder is handy. One might do it oneself
sooner than bide for those lazy carles." And
she got up and walked uneasily to the door
again.

" Nay barn, let it be: its none of thy job,"
said the old woman ; muttering to her loom, for
there was nobody else to hear. " The mistress
is queer and fidgetty to-day. One might think
somewhat was going to happen."

But the ladder was up against a rick in the
distance, and men were on it, thatching and
shouting. Over the water, and all round,
wooded hills shook in the heat-haze. Unna
shaded her eyes and looked once more for Orm

9

and Hundi, but nought she spied. She came
back and sat on a stool against her high-seat,
and tried to sew. But the sun-spot crept on to
her lap, like some little wounded animal,
dragging itself painfully to refuge there. It
shone through her work, and through her
fingers, so that they seemed blood-red : and it
dived into the red stone in her ring, and made
it redder than blood : and it burned on the gold
like the whole sun itself, a blaze of mystery, a
dream of glory.

Glitter-clatter went on the loom. " Poor
soul," said the old woman: "best thing she can
do" as she saw Unna's tired head sink back
against the post of the high-seat, and her long
white throat slide out of the white neckerchief,
and her chin heaved up, like a blown wild rose
leaf, warm in the reflected sunshine.

Then in the stillness the sun-spot dragged
itself off her hand and off her lap, and tumbled
to the floor again in one roundel, just like a
bubble that gathers itself together in the dark
pool under a waterfall, out of the shattering of
the spray : a dream of death.

Glitter-clatter went on the loom nevertheless :
and the birds sang still in the green world
outside. The mother's dreams were soft and
sweet, of life's love, and life's labour, that never
fail nor come to bitterness ; for these regard
not glory, and fear not death.
10

OW we leave Mistress Unna CHAPTER
and baby Thorstein asleep, to III. SWEIN'S
tell about Orm and Hundi and HOME-
how they floated boats. Those COMING,
boys had run off to the work-
shop where smithying was

done, and found a heap of chips and shavings,

and made each of them a boat, with a

thin shaving for a sail : and of course they must

away to the beck, as nobody was there to shout

after them. So they ran over the cobble-paved

garth between the byres, and out at the gate of

the turf wall that stood round about the "town."

Then they were at the boat-landing, among

planks and rollers, ropes and chains, and the

delicious smell of tar that hung about the boat

building sheds, and reeked in the hot sunshine.
The shore was steep, and shelving into a dub

just there: so they ran downbank towards the

flats that open out below the point. Under the

crags and fir-trees of the nab they had to

scramble over rocks and stones, and to splash

through salt pools left by the outgoing tide : but

soon they came to a stretch of rippled sand

between fell and firth, and waded a beck that

flowed from the woods and wound northward

along their edge to join the Leven.

"Ha!" said Orm, "now we are on my fairy

island. It is all gold, and yon side the beck

runs down, and yon side the beck runs up.

Now we are on my holm, and I will fight thee

for thy boat."

For it was a custom among these Northmen

ii

when two had a quarrel to go upon an island
and fight it out. So Orrn beat Hundi, and ran
off with both the boats and pushed them from
the shore until they sailed down-bank with the
tide. There was no one to cry for, so Hundi
held his peace : he brushed his eyes with his
hand and pattered on, his bare feet crisping the
soppy sand ripples, and leaving their prints in
a chain of little tarns. And when he came to
the next bend in the river, lo and behold his
own boat came straight to shore and into his
hands, while the boat that Orm had made was
rocking in mid-channel with its sail draggled in
the water. Orm began to throw handfuls of
sand over it, to draw it in : and while they were
intent upon this job and keeping no look out,
suddenly they heard shouts not far off, and the
clash of oars, and a great craft swung round
into that reach and bore straight down upon
the chip boat. A moment they stood dum-
foundered, and then turned and ran for the
woods like young rabbits. For in those days
it was no idle threat when mothers said to
truant boys, "Mind you don't go out of sight,
for fear a man catches you."

But just when the throb began to beat very
hard in their throats, and they were stopped by
the steep crumbling banks of the little beck
that bounded the holm, they heard, like a
shepherd calling sheep, "Ho, Orm! ho, Hundi!
ho ! " and they turned and looked : and then
looked at one another with bright eyes and
panting too much to laugh. They set off
12

running back to the ship, which they knew well
enough now. The rowers had easied and
brought her close to the edge of the sandbank :
and that could well be done, for she drew very
little water and was nigh flat bottomed. Swein,
with a brown square face, and bushy fair beard,
and bright blue eyes laughing out of the locks
of his tawny hair, came wading ashore. He
caught up one child under each arm, waded out
again, and hoisted them to hands aboard.
Then catching at the gunwale near the steering
oar, he raised himself half-length and vaulted
over. The water dripped from his gartered
hose and blue kirtle skirts: for his mail-coat
was doffed, and he wore only a belted kirtle or
blouse over his white linen sark.

"Eh, father, mother will snape thee for
for getting of thyself in a mess!" said Hundi
compassionately. "But never heed her: I'll
say it was to fetch us aboard."

" But my dragon is wrecked," grumbled Orm.

" And is that all you have to say to your old
father when he comes home? "

"Nay," said Orm looking round coolly,
"What have ye brought me?"

"No great things, barn, this trip," said Swein,
with half a smile, as he took the steering oar.
" Now then, lads, all's well, by this token. The
barns say little, but there is enough of it, and
enow of them. Forward all now: a spurt to
finish our day's work. Lift her ! here she goes.
Lift her!"

A 'dozen of long blades, six aside, with a

13

Couple of men at each, churned the sandy
shallows, as the boat swept round the curve
and up stream. Long in the keel and low in
the board she was, with swinging curves at stem
and stern rising swan-like to the figure-head
and the carved stern-post. But the ugly mask
of a spit-fire dragon was taken off the bows,
now that they were so near home ; for it was a
belief among these people that the land-wights,
the good fairies and useful brownies, would
be scared by such a sight, or at least take it in
dudgeon, and depart. So the figure-head had
a good face for home waters, and a hideous one
to put on when they got out to sea and to work
among strangers. The gunwales were notched
into dog-tooth markings and what old wives
call box-pattern in their quiltings. The strong
upstanding tholes were curiously carved with
knots and worm-twists. Great oars were lashed
to these tholes and the rowers stood to their
work and pushed the handles. There was a
step for a mast forward, but the mast and yard
were lying along the gangway that ran between
the ranks of rowers, from the decked forecastle
to the quarter deck ; and the sail, useless to-day,
was wrapped about the spars. There was little
else to be seen: the few bales or chests she
might carry were stowed below, and her decks
were clear, as if at any moment she might meet
with an enemy. Over the gunwale hung the
men's shields, a dozen aside, each by its strap
from its own pin, and ready to be caught up in
the twinkling of an eye. Black and gold they

14

were painted for the most part, and if one was
more black then the next was more golden, so
they made a fine show from without.

Every man aboard was a sturdy fellow, who
would go through with it, whatever he took in
hand ; bronzed with the sun and great-thewed
with downright hard work. Some of them
were Swein's own Northmen from the Isle of
Man, old comrades and followers of former
days: some were Welsh of the country, his
bought servants ; but trusty men under a good
leader. They were all his house-mates, or lived
in cots of their own hard by.

So now that they were near home they laid
to with a will. The children played helping
father with the steering sweep, which knocked
them over every time it was put up or down.
Swein gave the stroke, faster and faster as the
landing ^place came in sight, with his " Lift
her! " and they made her spin up the last reach.
Round she went, and half-way up the bank
ploughing the sand. Orm and Hundi tumbled
on the deck laughing. Then out men leapt,
and ran her up on her rollers above high-water
mark, as they were used with these light flat-
bottomed craft. The easier it was, for by now
they were spied and recognised from the fields,
and a dozen farm servants had run down to
lend a hand.

You may be sure it was merry-night that
evening at Greenodd, and Unna was wide
awake and bustling to made amends for her
laziness, as she called it. The servant lasses

15

had a busy time, with the fire to stoke, and
the supper to cook, and the tables to set.
Meanwhile the men went to their bath in the
bath-house, and shifted their sea-clothes. Long
before the sun sank behind the high fell at the
back of the house they were sitting at meat,
cooled and ravenous, on the long hall-benches,
behind heaps of barley cake and haverbread,
and dried fish ; great bowls of broth and porridge
into which many spoons were dipped at once :
and platters of butter and cheese and curds, and
trenches piled with steaks, which they ate with
their sheath-knives : and it may be said for
them that if some eat foully with forks, others,
to the manner bred, can eat fairly with fingers.
As to drinking, the lasses had their work in
running to and fro with ale and buttermilk, to
slocken thirsty men who had rowed from
Carnforth since breakfast on a broiling hot day.

CHAPTER lfe! = ^^^^ WEIN was in his own hi & h
IV. ON THE ^^^^^ seat ' and while the din lasted
HOWE. '^^^^^fC ate like another, looking now

and then but shyly through
the hearth-smoke at Unn over
1 against him. At last "Eat,
Unna!" he cried, "and take thy supper. One
would think I was a merman, and stared at for
a show. Sup thy porridge, lass, and be hearty."
" I have supped," she said, " and supped
well."

" Supped with her eyes," said old Toli, for
here he was, holding out his empty horn, " A
dry supper, but a big one."
16

" I've seen her eat nought," said Swein.
"What has she supped on?"

" Thee," said Toli. " Eh, Mistress ? "

But Unna, though she was used to the
uncourtly ways of her own folk and could
laugh at a rough jest, was less at ease than she
had hoped to be. When the meal began, she
had looked lovingly across at her man, making
out his features one by one through the
dimness and the smoke, watching for the open
smile that he was used to give her, on such
nights as these of home-coming, when his first
hunger was stayed and the feasting was
forward: the free smile and friendly nod that
signalled all's well. But this time it was long
in coming: and she got only the half glances
and the rough and puzzling " Eat, child." Her
eyes filled with tears, and her mind flew to
chances of mishap. There were all the men
back, and no wounds to be seen : the ship was
safe: what could it be? Some woman in the
case. What else? And her quick wit, wrong
for once, revealed to her, like a lightning flash,
a whole story of dismay.

Men were fed by now, and they drank
healths, first to Odin for the kinsfolk, and then
to Niord and Frey for peace and plenty.
When they were come to the cup for Bragi he
was the god of talking and of tale-telling and
song, it was Swein's old use and wont to
begin the story of his doings and travellings
since the last farewell, and to hold them all till
midnight wrapt in the tale. This time he put

c 17

down the horn untasted : and when they waited
for him in wonder, suddenly hushed, he thrust
the table from him, and went forth.

Unna looked at Raud her brother who sat by
her, signing with her eyes as much as to say
"What now?" and the sign he gave her was a
nod toward the door.

"Aye, mistress," said Toli, "till him, and
wheedle him back. To think of folk leaving
good ale for an idle whim."

"What then?" she said, flashing back at
him, while Raud made room for her.

"Nought that matters: nay, never ask me."

With a beating heart she went through the
porch, and her knees trembled as she passed.
Swein was going slowly through the gate,
slackening his pace, though he neither turned
nor looked ; but yet it seemed as if he wanted
to be overtaken.

There is a steep path up the cliffs a little to
the seaward of the houses, mounting rapidly at
first over the crags by rude steps in the rock,
and then through the great rough stems of
ancient fir-trees, and between thickets of
blackberry-brambles, until it comes out upon a
clear space on the top. It is not so far that
one need halt to take breath by the way, and
yet lofty enough for the eye to sweep north,
south, east and west, down the firth and up the
valley, and across to the far-away fells.

This was Swein's howe, where he went daily
and often-times a day, to watch the bright line
of the sea, if by chance a sail might be made
18

out, friend or foe or merchant vessel cruising
round the coast. There also he could overlook
his land ; for the acres of oats and barley and
the hay-fields lay close beneath, around the
mouth of Crake. His own summer pastures were
on the fells hard by, and his swine fed in the
woods around. He could see what was doing,
and what was left undone, from that howe:
count men and beasts, and hear the sounds of
work going on in smithy or shed. Here he
would take counsel with himself about new
dealings with this man and that, and lay his
plans and dream over his enterprises. And
when there was trouble or when things went
aslew, it was on this howe that he sat to
wrestle with his thoughts. And it was his
mind when he should be dead to be buried there
and look out from his grave upon his children
and his home, and the kind land that had given
him a resting-place from his wanderings.

He sat down upon the turf seat on the top,
and Unna, who had tripped lightly after him,
sat down alongside. He rested both elbows on
his knees as one ashamed to speak, but moved
not away. What can it be ? was her thought.

For now the sun was set in the gold half of
the sky, and the other half was clear pansy
coloured, with a round moon rising through the
fringe of dusky woods. Below them the tide
was flowing in, and the wash of it was heard in
the stillness : the great rings and bows of the
river in front swung about and along over the
silvery flats, like the track of a skater on ice.

19

CHAPTER
V. THE
KINGS'
MOTE.

And against the northern glow far away, sharp
violet ridges of distant mountain stood around
them, serene, above the tumbling forest and
rich promontories of Crake and Leven.

Then she slid her arm over his shoulder, and
her fingers twitched at the brooch that fastened
his cloak ; and it seemed that he was her man
still. The moon had disentangled itself at last,
and began to glimmer on the tide ripple.
" Twilight brings talk," thought Unna, and
waited for him to begin.

JELL, wife," said Sweinatlast,
" I am trapped, seemingly. It
is stand and deliver, is it ?
What, there is nothing so
dreadful after all, turn and
[turn it over as one may. But
that is yet to be judged: I suppose I must put
my case, and tell my story.

"How we set off I need not tell. We came
to Carnforth, and there we met most of our
neighbours from the country-side. There was
Arnold and his people from Arnoldsby in
Dunnerdale : there were Raven and Ulfar from
this side of Furness: Ulf and Sigurd the priest
from up the Kent ; and Arni was there on the
spot, for he lives hard by, and it was his folk
looked after the ships of us that came by water;
and other friends from over the sands. We
took counsel together, and agreed that being
summoned to this meeting, be it peace or war,
we should go : but that we should keep together
and make one band, for it is ill dealing with folk
that are neither kith nor kin.
20

" Thou knowest, Unna, that we reckoned
this bit of land was no man's land until we
came and took it. Northward beyond the fells
the Welsh hold themselves under the rule of
Donal the Strathclyde king: but never did I
hear of his coming into these parts or having a
power on Morecambe coasts. Across there in
Cartmel they say they belong to the minster
priests in York, and be no king's men at all :
and beyond that again, if Ragnar Lodbrog's
sons did ever take the land, neither Angle nor
Dane in Kentdale or Lunesdale has paid shot
to York for many a year: and this Sigurd
upholds, and he is a man that listens to old
folk's tales; and a wise man, if it be wise now-
a-days to redden the altar as men used, and to
build a holy place for Thor, as he has done, up
the Kent, at the spot we call Sigurd's horg.

" ' Fifty years ago, after Halfdan sacked
Carlisle and laid all these parts under him, and
began to settle them from the eastward, and had
his king's seat near Ulfar's town, then, I grant
you,' says Sigurd, 'this would be in the Dane-
law: but now that king Halfdan is dead and
all the kings that came after him down to
Guthred, and there is no law in York, but only
these rascally bearsarks of Danes sacking and
slaying up and down, why, look you, we owe
them nothing, and need but keep together,'
says he, 'to be our own men like the Icelanders.'
And this talk we held to be but fair and good,
and took hands all round upon it.

"So we got horses at the bank where the old

21

road meets the sands, and came to a burg called
Lancaster where we had to meet the main part
of the host from the north. The burgers gave
us what we wanted with little ado : a handful
of chapmen and cowpers who trade with
travellers on the great highway. But I thought
they grinned a little when we talked of going
against the Saxons.

"Well, in a day or so there is a great
trumpetting and booming, and up comes Con-
stantine the Scots' king, and his brother Donal
of Strathclyde, and among them Ketel and
others of our own men from Cumberland, and
some from Galloway: and it was hail fellow
with many an old friend.

"'It seems we are but short-handed,' said
Sigurd: 'or is the Saxon king of less account
than we reckon for ? '

"With that they laughed outright, and the
cat came out of the bag, tail and all : for they
told us flatly that there was no righting to be
thought of: but only a great meeting of all the
people in Britain under their kings and earls.

" 'And pray what king do you reckon us to
be under?" said I to Ketel.

'" Well,' said Ketel, 'Donal flatters himself
because I have taken up my abode in his
borders, that I am his man. I remember well,
when I met him first, what a wagging of beards
there was. Some were for hunting us out, at
which the old whiteheads turned pale, though
I made as if I understood none of their dim
satsnaeg. By and by the whitest beard of all

22

made a terrible long-winded speech, setting
forth how, if they turned us out, there would be
swarms more of us revenging ourselves upon
them : and how there was land enough and to
spare on the holms and flats by Dundraw : and
how, when we Northmen were let alone we
were decent merchants, buying goods and
servants. He said we always had plenty of
money and brought trade to the country-side :
and he wound up in a flowery way, I could
understand him well: Look you, says he,
waving his old skinny arms about. These white
strangers (for they call us white, and the Danes
black, and right they are to my thinking) these
strangers, says he, will be a soft bolster to our
heads. When hard knocks come, they will get
them, and we shall feel the less. So they
blethered and clattered like crows, and in the
end let us be : and here we are ! '

"'Well, Ketel Bolster,' said I eh, how they
did laugh ' if Donal suits thee for lord and
master, he suits not me.' At which Ketel
would at me, and I would have beaten him
well, only they stood in and stopped us.

"Next day we trotted along the great high
road. It's a strange thing, Unna, that folk
ever took the trouble to heap hard stones
together for nought but to walk on. But there
it goes up hill and down dale, through bog and
brink ; and everly built with cobbles, for all the
world like a great long hearth spot, and as
straight as an arrow-flight from day's end to
day's end. They told me it was folk from

23

Romeburg that built it : though what they
could have done it for, I know nought : unless
it were a priest's trick to mark out the Church'
gate. Anyhow it was hard riding clitter-clatter
on the cobbles all day long : I had rather have
galloped over the green grass: but keep
together was the word, for there were but few
of us, and with such a pack of Welsh and Scots
before and behind, one never knows what may
happen.

"The next night we harboured at a spot they
called Ribblechester, and the next at Man-
chester, which is a pretty place, and one would
have thought a strong work enough to hold
against any comers: but the Saxons took it
last summer from those lubberly Danes. I fell
in talk with the goodman where they lodged us,
and it seemed that not only they in Manchester,
but all the Danelaw, had got a thorough fright
of the Marchmen and the Saxons, and they
were hastening to this meeting like thralls to
supper, each afraid to be last man in.

" ' And who are they ? ' say I.

'" Why, 'says he, * everybody of account, but
in especial the new kings of York.'

"' New kings?' say I.

"'Aye,' says he: 'Sigtrygg and Ragnwald
Ivarson.'

"'What!' say I; ' Sigtrygg I knew was
bearsarking up and down in those parts, no
king, and not at York: but Ragnwald, the
rascal, he was at Waterford but a while since :
what is he doing here ? '
24

"'Why,' says he, 'where in the round world
is thy den, man or mountain bear?"

"'Softly,' say I : 'Swain is my name and
Bear's son is my breeding. Swain's fist or
bear's paw, which wilt have ? '

'"No offence, guest,' says he: 'But I thought
every one knew that Ragnwald was kicked out
of Waterford '

"'Well done! 'say I.

" 'And killed the old king's earls but a few
months since, and marched into York.'

'"Marched into hell! ' said I.

"' No such thing: the tale was that he died
three years ago ; but there he is, and thou wilt
see him at the king's mote, for he will be
there to make his peace with Eadward and be
confirmed in his kingdom.'

" ' He shall see me,' said I, 'and get more
peace than he wots of.'

"For Unna, never a day passes but I think
of that fight off Man, and our good Bardi's ship
going down with the Dane's iron beak through
her ribs.

"Well, this last day we rode over fells they
called Peak to Bakewell, and if it was forecast at
Manchester, here was sooth. Hardly were we
within sight of the place, but a flock of horse-
men comes spurring out to meet us, and after
some parley makes a lane for us to pass through,
one by one, like sheep counted into a fold: and
of each a jack-in-offtce asks name and nation
and so forth before he may go his ways. And
when we come among the houses, which were

D 25

as thick as trees in a wood, we must halt till
we are told off to our lodgings : and there we
must bide till it please my lord the Saxon king
to see us. Not but that we were well bestowed
for bed and board : and to see the sights was
something. Houses, I say, for ever, and nigh
upon all of them new built or even in the
building. Strangers from all parts of the land ;
why, from all the round world it seemed. And
all day and every day market in the lanes and
open places, and wares to be bought the like of
which I never saw, not even on Dublin strand
when the fleet comes in. What little I had of
silver in my bag soon went : but it passed the
time to chaffer and turn the wares over. I got
a bit of a scarf: the cowper said it came from
Micklegarth and maybe beyond : even he was
all the way from Londonburg. I paid a pretty
penny for it, and yet thought I was making
a good bargain. Mayhappen you will shake your
head : but don it first. There are two or three
trifles beside in a kist the lads will bring up
and we can unpack to-morrow.

"All this while no Ragnwald was to be seen,
and I began to reckon nought of the Manchester
man's tale. At last comes jack-in-office, and
bids us to the Saxon king : and in we go, over
a bridge and through a gate in the stout oaken
wall new cut : and there is a yard in the midst,
full of his housecarles, and one could not but
see with half an eye that they were big fellows
and their weapons were of the best.

"I need not tell thee, Unna, what a king's
26

house is like : but this burg was a sight to see,
for its bigness without, and within for its
hangings and carvings and gold and silver : yet
most of all for the king we have heard tell about
sitting on his high seat, all gold, with his high
crown and gold staff: and his earls and priests
in gold cloaks and horned caps, holding their
crooks like so many warlocks : and indeed who
knows what spell they were casting over us?
Anyhow there were Constantine and Donal
down on their knees, like men bewitched, and
their hands in the king's hands, saying after
one that stood by 'I Constantine, and I
Donal, take thee Eadward to be my father and
lord, and father and lord of all my folk.' And
then came Ealdred Eadulfson of Bamborough,
with his Angles, and did likewise. And then
came Sigtrygg Ivarson and a scrow of Danes,
and did likewise, only that they made oath on
the ring, for they are not Christian men like
those that went before. And then came
Ragnwald.

" Unna, lass, I was mad wrath when I saw
him, and I could have run upon him there:
only Sigurd held me by one arm and Ketel by
the other, and said ' Peace, man, at a mote ! '
And then stood one forth in the silence, and
spoke, ' Forasmuch as you have commended
you to our king Eadward, king of Angles and
Saxons, and overlord of Cornwall and of
Gwynedd and of all the West Welsh, to be his
men, each and all of you '

"'Nay, not I,' cried a voice: they said it was

27

mine, though I knew not I spoke, for I was
that angry. But you may guess if there was a
haybay and swords drawn. They plucked me
by the sleeve and shouted in my ears ' Peace
man, peace ! ' I tried to get at my sword, and
looked for Ragnwald first. But the Saxon
king sat still on his high seat, and waved his
wand, and men were quiet again and I standing
thrust out in the midst.

" 'Come hither, good friend,' he said, speaking
very fair and slowly, so that I could understand
him well, for the Saxon tongue is hard to hear
at first: 'Come nigh and tell me what ails
thee.'

"And I marched up to the high seat, and
said I, 'Nothing but this, king; that I have
sworn nought to thee: and I see my enemy
standing there. 1

'"Softly, good man,' says the king; ' this is
a hallowed mote: if all foes here were to fight,
we should eat each other up.' And he smiled,
Unn, and I could not but laugh too, for I
thought of yon Irish cats thy mother used to
tell of.

" 'And who is thy foe?' says Eadward.

" ' Ragnwald Ivarson.'

"With that, out steps Ragnwald as proud as
a peacock.

'"I never set eyes on the carle,' says he.

'"But I know thee, Ragnwald,' said I ; ' and
well I mind the day when thy ship ran Bardi's
down, ten years ago, off Man.'

'"And is that all? 'said he.
28

"'Come/ said Eadward: 'this day we let
bygones be bygones. Have I nothing against
Ragnwald, thinkst thou? and were Bardi
Ottarson's folk sackless of scathe to me and
mine ? Who art thou, good fellow, and whence ? '

"So I told him my name and where I lived :
and the upshot of it was that Eadward says,
'Well then, if I let thee dwell there in peace,
wilt thou leave thy neighbours in peace ? '

"What could one say but Aye ?

" Now, all this while was the high priest
muttering and making signs at me, Sigurd says :
and doubtless I was bewitched. For I looked
in the king's eyes and clean forgot about
Ragnwald, and all the mind I had to live and
die my own man, and no king's man. The
people in the hall seemed to be a dream, and
there were I and Eadward only. He reached
out his hand to me, and my hand was in his,
and the ring fell from his arm upon mine.
' Kneel, man, kneel ! ' cried the bystanders : but
Eadward smiled, like one who has mated you at
chess.

"'Take hands on a bargain,' he said: 'that
is the Northman's way, is it not? Nay, keep the
ring, friend Swein.'

"And there it is," said Swein: casting a gold
armlet on the turf. " The bull's snout-ring, I
call it : the thrall's collar."

"And is that the tale?" said Unna, stooping
to pick it up. "Oh, man ! serve the best and
spurn the worst. I am weary of this wandering
and warring; I would fain end our days as this
day ends." 29

CHAPTER

VI. OF

FURNESS

FOLK A

THOUSAND

YEARS

SINCE.

And the moon cast a great stream of light
along the Leven.

" I thought there could be no welcome for a
nithing like me."

"Welcome?" she said. "Thrice welcome
for the best tale of these ten years : a thousand
welcomes if the peace but hold good."

"Maybe through the winter," said Swein, as
they rose to leave the howe. Then, as their
feet brushed through the beaded dew, "I doubt
if the oath will bind us long," said he. "Me-
thought when he took mine, that I was holding
a dead man's hand."

HE winter wore and the
summer came: and Eadward
still ruled the land in peace.
But about hay-harvest there
were rumours, at which Swein
nodded to his wife as one who
says "You see I was right." And when hay-
time was well passed, came people from over
the fell bidding him to a meeting at Ulfar's
Lund.

Now this Ulfar, of whom we spoke before,
had land on the brink of the fells where they
met the low country, about an hour's journey
to the southward of Greenodd. He was an old
man, and he had been a chieftain formerly, and
was a man of worth even now, and a stickler
for old times and the old laws.

Near his "town" (as we still call hereabouts
any cluster of dwellings though it be nothing
like a city) and between it and the waterside,
30

there was a broad mound, not so high, but
standing by itself: from which could be seen a
great ring of country all around: across the
firth, Cark and Cartmel way, and all the
Sandgate, that is the road across the sands
of Leven, and whosoever was coming and
going, for good or ill: and down the coast to
Conishead, that was the king's seat, where the
York kings had their folk to take tax of the
iron-workers and mines : and then again west-
ward to Pennington, where the Pennings lived.
They were an ancient family of English kin
long ago settled there, and busied chiefly in
getting red iron ore out of the iron pits on their
land, and smelting it and forging it. They
were great smiths, and used charcoal in their
furnaces or bloomeries as we call these old
works. The charcoal was got from the woods
that in old times covered all the country : but
by now these Pennings and their people had
cleared a deal of ground: there was the
Swartmoor between their town and the old road,
called so, no doubt, from the cutting and coaling
that had gone to clear it. And so much iron
they smelted and forged into weapons and tools,
pots and pans, and iron-ware of all sorts, that
they were glad to sell it to the merchants who
came in ships up the firth. When Ulfar came,
at first they were angry, and fought with him :
but when they found that for all their smith's
cunning they could never give him the smith's
stroke, as the saying is, they came round to the
mind of king Donal's counsellors that Ketel

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told of. They made peace with Ulfar, and
found that he was an honest man and abiding
by his word. When he offered to take their
ironmongery and sell it for them, better than
the cowpers who had come before, they were
glad of it, and did all the brisker business in
his company : and in the end they settled down
into good neighbours and friends.

When the Northmen came into Hougun, that
is the country we call Furness, beside the
Pennings they found a few English and some
Welsh here and there. There were Welsh in
the low land over against Walney, and Rhos
they called the meadow-land thereabouts.
There were already villages between that and
Dalton and up to Broughton on the Duddon,
and churches there, and priests, no doubt ; but
such as heard little of any English bishops, or
what we should call government whether of
church or state. Across at Cartmel the land
and all the Welsh that were on it had long ago
been given to York Minster ; but Furness was a
bit of that broad debatable ground over which
the tide of invasion flowed from age to age
and ebbed back again, just like the sea
upon Morecambe shores. As time went on,
here a piece of sand was fully reclaimed, and
there a piece of land was swallowed up by the
tide. So that it is hopeless now to seek the
true boundaries either of the people or of the
place so many years ago : we can only pick out
here and there an English or a Welsh name
among the Norse.

E 33

But when the Northmen came they took the
snuggest places for shelter and for safety, as we
said, from the great fleets of Harald and Alfred.
They always wanted a good landing spot for
their flat-bottomed boats, so that when sum-
mer came, between sheep-shearing and corn
harvest, they might make use of their spare
time by pushing out to sea and doing a little
quiet trade, or may be at times you might
call it "raid," up and down the coasts of the
Irish Sea. And so they went on farming and
seafaring, turn about, and picked up a better
living the harder they worked at both.

Beside Ulfar there settled others of the
Northmen along the coast. There would have
been Raven at the south point of Foreness,
from whom we call Rampside and Ramsey.
Beyond Barr-ey, that is Barley island there is
Orm's Gill, and round about it the villages into
which his folk spread; Hawcott, the high
cottage ; Sowerby, the muddy farm ; Sandscale,
the shed by the sand; and so forth. Then up
the Duddonfirth there is Roanhead, that is to
say the headland with the grove of trees, at
one end of the Roman road that goes by Dalton
and Lindal to Conishead and Bardsea, which
again is, in the language of the Northmen, as
recorded in king William's Domesday-book,
Barehead's-edge, and doubtless a place of
ancient inhabitation. Then, up the Duddon
again, there is Dunnerholm the wild ducks'
islet, a fine spot for a stronghold ; and opposite
to it Mealholm, Sandy isle, where in after
34

times Millom castle was built. A little higher
is Arnold's-by and Wolveswater, or Ulfa, as
they called the river Duddon, and round about
them many a Norse thwaite.

After a while, from these first settlements on
the coast, land was taken up inbank by the
families and followers of the first viking settlers.
Around Ulfar's town there were Rolf's seat,
and Asmund's lea, and Hauk'svale, and Mani's
riggs. In the lower land across the Swarthmoor
there is one Saxon spot, namely : Eadgar's
lyth, and outlying farms with Norse names
such as Bolton, Stainton, Scales and Bousfield.
Urswick, maybe means nothing but " stone
walls " and Glassertun the beck town below ; and
on the coast hard by is Aldingham and its Mote-
hill where some Saxon thane had dwelt in bygone
times. Some say the Northmen afterwards
used it for their Althing, and so gave it the
name it keeps, though of this there is no other
record than the ancient name Aldhingham, and
the burial place of some Thing-priest of theirs
hard by, at the Godi's barrow.

Now you must have patience for a while to
hear a word about these Motehills, and Things,
and what was meant by a Godi.

Of all the Northmen in Furness our tale tells
that Ulfar was the chief, both because he was a
man of repute to begin with, and an early comer,
and because he had got wealth from his trading
and shipping iron to all parts. Being as we
said a stickler for the old laws, Ulfar made a
sacrificing place on that mound near his town

35

among the trees that grew upon it. He set up
an altar to worship Thor in that grove, and
called it his Lund. To the feasts of the Lund
he bade his neighbours ; and they were glad to
come, not only for the worship, and to be on
good terms with the gods, but because there
was a chance of meeting one another, and
talking over their affairs. So many came and
so long they stayed, as folk who had a good way
to travel and were loth to return in a hurry,
that around about the Lund they built booths
to lodge in, and set up tents. Some brought
wares to sell, and others started games and
wrestling-matches: so that it was quite like a
fair, at the great feasts after Yule and after
sheep-shearing, and after corn-harvest, the
seasons that stand for Ulverston fair to this day.

When anyone had a quarrel with his neigh-
bour and there had been manslaughter or other
misdoing, since there was no king to do justice
they brought the case to Ulfar at one of these
feasts, and he judged it according to the use
and wont of the Northmen ; so that Ulfar was
called their Godi, or chief and priest. Over in
Dunnerdale, folk would meet in the same
manner at Folksfield which is named like the
Folksdale by the Tynwald in Man; and in
Kentdale Sigurd had his holy place at Sigurd's
Horgr, the spot we now call Sizergh : and in
every dale there was some meeting place of
which we have for the most part either the
name or the spot to point to.

After a while, the people from these little
36

meeting-places or Things, as they called them,
found reason why they must come together
into greater meetings, or Althings. And they
held the Althing first in one place and then in
another: and last of all, if our guess tell truth, after
the ravaging of Cumberland by King Ethelred
when the men of the Morecambe coast were cut
off from their kindred in the north, they shifted
their meeting place southward, and used the
Saxon Motehill for the Althing of Hougun, being
fashioned to hand, and plain round about,
and thereto the midmost spot for the Thingmen
to come at within the borders of the king of
England, in the country between the Cumber-
land fells and the Kibble, namely the district
which was then known as Amounderness. But
this is out of our tale.

Well, as summer was drawing on, Swein was
bidden to a Lund feast: and took boat and
landed at the Hummerside and went up to the
Lund. There men were all talking of the new
king, and what should be done about him.
For Eadward was now dead and Athelstan his
son reigned in his stead; a stirring man, and
not one to let the fire smoulder under his feet.
The news was that Sigtrygg of York Sihtric
he is called by the English had marched out
as soon as the old king was gone : but Athelstan
was before-hand, and met him at Tamworth in
the March, and there they made peace, and
Athelstan gave Sigtrygg his sister Eathgita to
wife, and confirmed him in his kingdom.

"And Ragnwald the viking, what of him?"
asked Swein.

37

CHAPTER
VII.

COWPERS'
CRACKS.

[The great
Aurora of
A.D. 926.]

Nobody knew: some said he was gone to
France, some said he was killed: anyway he
was out of the road by this time, and Sigtrygg
was now head king over all the Danelaw.
These great kings being at peace there was no
longer any chance of a rising: not that it
mattered much to the Northmen hereabouts:
but they were all good fighting men as well as
good farmers and merchants. A summer
without war was a season lost, to their way of
thinking. So they went home again grumbling ;
and the next winter nothing happened, but
that at Greenodd, Thorstein grew too big for
his cradle, and began to walk and talk.

JVENING it was, when the
afternoons were already begin-
ning to lengthen, but before
the frost was over. Thorstein
came running in at his bed-
Itime, and " Mother, mother,"
says he, " the fell's afire !"

Sure enough there was a sight to make the
boldest heart shake in its step like a ricketty
mast. For it seemed that all the heavens were
aflame ; as though, beyond the high hills, woods
and forests nay, the very mountains themselves
were blazing in a light low. And one while,
great sheets of wavering flame turned blood-
colour, and the sky between them was green,
and the stars faded away. Then it throbbed,
and shifted, and changed like clouds of sunset,
though the sun was long gone down and there
was no moon. Swein and Raud and the rest

38

of them were aught but cowards: but when
they turned in, they saw one another pale as
grass in the firelight, and laughed but little
that night. But what it might mean they
disputed among themselves : and it was mostly
thought there would be bloodshed wherever
that blood in the sky had shone.

There was another evening soon after, when
trading merchants came in a boat up the firth
of the Leven. Such were never unwelcome in
winter, when folk were at home and work was
slack ; there was time to rummage the wares
and hear the news. These cowpers also found
the coast a deal safer when no summer fighting
was going on. As for storms, they were never
out of sight of a shelter, creeping about the
shore, picking up what they could, and always
well entertained. They had come last from
Cowprond, which was their "trading shore"
and market-place with the Cartmel Welsh,
where the old road met the Sandgate over the
Leven. Greenodd was the only house up the
firth, and it was not always that chapmen called
there ; and so they were made much of.

When they had got their packs up to the
house, and when they had been served and
suppered, out came news. For it seems that
Sigtrygg had died, not long after that great fire-
flaught in the heavens. "Aye," said the
cowpers, "you may well cock your ears: others
beside you guessed that great doings would
happen. But listen now, Swein Biornson and
all.

39

"Folk said there was foul play in that matter:
and Sigtrygg's sons by the queen that was, the
Irish-woman, charged it on the queen that is,
the English-woman for whose sake the king
had taken christening: but having won her, he
went back on his word and took to sacrificing
again. Upon which off she goes to her brother
Athelstan, wed and yet unwed, as one may say.
And then dies Sigtrygg. Athelstan, they say,
knew as much about it as another: but that is
only guess work, and neither here nor there.
Anyhow he is a brisk lad and sprack, not the
man to see his sister put upon, right or wrong.
Away he marches with a great power to York;
and no sooner is he in sight, but Sigtrygg's sons
show him their heels, the best way they could :
and that was out by the back door, and away
up the big North road, across the fells, till they
come to Penrith in Cumberland : and there we
lose sight of them. But they do say that
Guthferth Sigtryggson started on the North
road to visit Constantine king of Scots, and get
shelter with him if he could : and. Olaf Cuaran
said good-bye to his brother and went west, as
if to seek his uncle Guthferth, who is king now
in Dublin. The question is What next? for
you may be sure they will not rest, and the
Irish and Scots will be glad of a chance for a
throw at the young king the king of all
England as he will reckon himself."

" And so that bad business at Bakewell comes
to nothing?" said Swein. " I knew as much.
But this lad Athelstan, by what you tell of him
40

must be a fine cockerel to crow so loud. And
now I call to mind, he must have been the
youngster that sat on the high-seat step at
Bakewell: he with the bright eyes."

"Aye," said the chapman, "tall and slender:
he would be some thirty winters old when you
saw him : handsome and flaxenhaired : and ye
will have noticed how his hair was all twisted
up with gold threads. He's a real king to look
at, though they say he is but the son of a
shepherd lass whom Eadward his father lighted
upon in his travels. And he is a good sort,
they say, and has seen the world, and knows
better than most kings how folk live. Why, he
speaks our language like one of us, and has
done a bit of seafaring. But for all that he is
a Saxon, and he must stand by his own kin."

"Well, what are we to do ? Knock him on the
head?"

"To hold thy peace," said Unna, "is my
advice : and watch the weather."

"A wise woman is my wife," said Swein,
" and knows the weasel's trick. After all, we are
free of our oath, and need not put our heads
into the snare again."

"Laugh at the lightning when the storm has
passed," said the chapmen. " Athelstan with his
power was at York awhile since, and may be in
Lunesdale by now to foreset us."

"Let him come!" shouted Swein; "and hey
for a gradely good stir-about, and pot luck for
the sharpest claws!"

"Look you, master cowper, and all the rest,"
F 41

said Unna, "if you set up for eggbattles and
put my man on shouting, I shall have those
blessed barns awake and on my hands all night.
Swein Biornson is a good friend to all his
friends but himself alone. We have seen a
little righting, to our sorrow: and the talk of
the trade hangs about the tongue, like smoke in
a half-burnt house. But here we are, and here
we stay if we can. As for Swein, his bark is
worse than his bite. He shaped well for a
good farmer in Man before Ragnwald shifted
us : and he shapes well for a good farmer now :
and pity it were if we be plucked up by the
roots again. These great kings and their
powers come not where nothing is to be had
but kale pottage and hard bats. I'll uphold it,
Athelstan will be bound for the great burgs in
the north, or connily on his way home again.
And I should reckon it ill done of you good
fellows to go abroad stirring up useless riot, or
coming hither to entrap quiet folk into rash
vows"

So the cowpers said they were but giving the
news and meant no harm : and that it never
had been their way to go talebearing and raising
strife, nor never would be. At which Unna
smiled, and got up to make them beds before
the fire on the benches of the hall. When she
saw them well furnished with rugs to hap them
and bolsters for their heads, she sent her folk to
their chambers ; put her knitting away into a
basket; lit a rushlight in an iron candlestick;
and bade them good-night.

Child Thorstein was fast asleep on the farther
side of the bolster in the narrow chamber of
their lock-bed, with one little dimpled arm
stretched upon the quilted coverlet. Swein,
sitting upon a kist to unlace his shoes, looked
sleepily at him, and then at her, as she let a
sheaf of yellow hair fall upon her white night-
sark : and the rushlight on the shelf shone down
through it, flickering in the draught from the
little round window above: for the lock-bed
was just like a cabin aboard ship.

"Right thou art, Irish fairy," said he: "and
always right. But ah, you women, you never
felt the heartiness of a good fight."

" Nay, we are nought: that's well known,"
she laughed, drawing the curtain round the
baby. "Bar the door, Norse bearsark."

ESTLESS they were that CHAPTER
spring; and Unna was anxious VIII. THE
and somewhat pettish when GIANT
Swein talked over the chances COMES IN.
of a war. For one good thing,
however, he was eager to get
forward with work at home, so that he might
leave the place well redd up : and that pleased
the mistress right well. So they put on until
haytime, which is pretty early in the low fields
by the waterside, and these were all they had
under hay : for the summer-pastures on the fell
were hardly stubbed, and far too stony for
cutting with the ley.

Well, they were all raking by the beck side,
and the mistress was pouring ale to slocken

43

them, and the boys were tumbling in the hay-
cocks, when there was a terrible stir in the
woods on the other bank. These woods were
on a long hill that made a wall to the valley over
against Greenodd : and the fields lay between,
and the tide ran up the Crake to where the
valley narrowed and the fields ended, and
there was a wath or fording-place. Dogs
barked, and men shouted, and swine squealed.
They could see by the shaking of the boughs
that something was going forward : most like a
wild-cat hunt, they said to one another, and
left it to the swine-herds to deal with.

But presently there was a great splash in the
ford, and out came a most enormous man, half
naked, with long red hair and red beard. He
held one hand on high, carrying they could not
see what. In his other hand was a huge ugly
stock of tree. All the swineherds' dogs were
after him, and the men too, for that matter:
but he made no account of them, until one dog
leaped at his legs as he came up the bank
on the hither side. The big man turned and
flicked him like a football, high in the air and
splash in the water: and ran straight for
Greenodd garth.

Swein and his men ran up to meet him with
their rakes and forks, less afraid than puzzled.
The big man never stayed until he came to the
door, and then he thrust the thing he was
carrying into a chink of the posts, and began
talking in a strange tongue. He was indeed a
giant, head and shoulders taller than any of the
44

Greenodd men, but of quite another make:
crane-legged and clumsy handed and jolter-
headed; unlike Swein, who was no little fellow,
though his strength was rather in the breadth
of his shoulders and the ropy sinews of his
wrist and forearm, like a seafaring man as he
had been bred. They could make nothing of
the giant's talk, but they saw that the thing he
had brought was a burnt splinter, and they
knew that it was a war-arrow and token of
righting: but whence or why they could not
guess. Presently came Unna; and listening to
the man's talk, she smiled, and began to answer
him. The creature made her a low court-
reverence, half haughty, half awkward, and
spoke to her with a strutting way about him,
like a cock upon pattens, as one may say.

When he had done, "Friends," she said,
"this man's talk is like the talk of our Irish:
and I gather thus much of his discourse, that
he is the messenger of a war-rising in the
north : and bids you to a weapon-show beyond
the fells, you and all the country side, whoever
will cast in his lot against the Saxon king.
And you are to send on the arrow to our next
neighbours, and bid them likewise."

"Speer of him, Unna, where and when,"
said Swein.

So she asked him, and said his story was to
the intent that he would come again in ten
days' time to lead them over the fells by the
bainest gate to the Scots king and the Welsh
king and all their friends : and she added that

45

she was sorry; but she doubted nothing of the
man's faith, for there was the arrow.

Swein drew out the arrow, and gave it to one
of his young men, and bade him carry it to
Ulfar by the fell-path. The red stranger
watched him start, and saw him run up the
fell nimbly, and nodded his head: and then
Unna signed that he should come to the house
for a bite and a sup, and sent the servants back
to their haymaking. He ate like a wolf, until
little was left for supper; and stared about him
in great wonderment at the house and all that was
in it, especially at the three boys, who gaped at
him, while they kept hold of their mother's
gown. At last he made another of his reveren-
ces, and a speech to Swein: walked swiftly
through the fields: splashed across the ford:
and so vanished into the woods.

Now when the arrow came to Ulfar he was
right glad, and sent it on far and wide, and
bade all his neighbours meet at Greenodd. So
to Greenodd came two-score men with their
war- weapons : and what the giant had left they
ate. But it was a point of honour to give to
all comers : and in summer especially there was
plenty for the trouble of killing and cooking.
They set up tents in the mown field to lodge
them, and being all good neighbours there was
no rough play to speak of. As for the errand
upon which they were come, they held their
meeting on the field over against Greenodd
across the ford of Crake. They cleared a space
on the fell side, and found a little howe there,

and made a doom-ring and hallowed it with
sprinkling of blood. Some of them that held
to the old law wanted Swein to let them have a
thrall to redden the stone. But he said nay to
that, and gave them a horse. So they killed a
horse there for Thor, and sprinkled its blood
upon all the people, and held a hallowed Thing
to order their doings and to pray help and luck
from their gods on the journey whither they
were bound. Because Ulfar was old they made
Swein their captain, and swore to him at that
spot, which they called Logberg, and we call
Legbarrow to this day.

Then began they to ask after the red man
their guide, for it was well known by this time
that they were bidden to join Constantine the
king of Scots and Owain the son of Donal, the
new king of Cumberland and Strathclyde, and
to march with all the north upon York by the
great highway. But how to come upon that
highway none of them knew, nor did they know
the paths across the fells, for they had kept
hitherto by the sea and hardly ventured inland
where all was wild forest. As they stood in
their assembly, some blaming Swein for putting
trust in the red man, and some saying that he
ought to have been kept by force and not let go,
lo and behold the wood opened, and there he
was beside them, true to his appointed time.

47

CHAPTER ^^^OJ^( ITTLE farewell they made,
^* B^^^^^y? an< ^ se * ou *' some on horse-
PRAVEL IK^^^Sk^ft back and some on foot, these

THROUGH ^^^^^M two-score men. The giant
THE FELLS. E^^^^SkfiJc striding along led them through
ISiiiB^tt^a^ wild woods up hill and down
dale. In the midst of the valleys and fells,
they came upon the traces of an ancient path
overgrown with brambles, and washed away
wherever the becks crossed it. For a good
while it ran along between hill and plain ; and
then it entered a narrow valley umbered with
ancient trees, and wholly uninhabited but for
wild boars and such like, whereupon they named
that place Grisdale, from the boars they found
there. Then the path crossed the beck and
crept up the side of a hill to the right hand,
until it got above the tops of the trees and out
on a heathy moor, where, after a while, they
found traces of an ancient village, but all by
now in ruins, wall and cot and dike. From the
brink of this moor the travellers could see a
delightful lake lying in the valley beneath,
among many little howes and hills, and all
smothered up in dark green forest. Between
the hills on the farther side there came peeps of
blue water, here a little and there a little ; to
which the giant pointed, making signs with his
hands that these bits of blue were all one great
long winding mere. To which indeed they
came, after travelling down from the high place
past an old ruin by a river side where Hawks-
head Hall stands now, and after toiling for

more than a step through the overgrown and
deserted pathways. If it had not been for their
guide one would never have guessed that any
pathway ran there at all, so hard to follow out
was that old track in the forest, and so lonely
and uncouth it seemed.

They stayed that night at the Waterhead of
this long mere, upon a holm beside two rivers
that joined and ran into it Breitha, the broad
water, they called the one they first came to,
and Reytha, that is Trout-stream, the other,
in which folk say trout alone do breed. Upon
this holm was an ancient stronghold, built
foursquare, and well-nigh even with the water.
The walls were in ruin, and the roofs of the
houses were fallen in. But it could be seen
that this had been a fine city once upon a time :
for the houses were strongly built of stone and
tiles, and the defences were well planned, and
there were old docks and landing-places be-
tween sharp nabs that ran into the lake. Among
the ruins of the houses were carven pillars and
painted walls, so well done that it was a wonder.
But the place was overgrown with nettles, and
the fairest chambers were choked with briars.
A few of the old houses were patched up, and a
handful of Welsh dwelt in them hugger-mugger.
These Welsh our Northmen could understand
a little, for they were used to the talk of their
Welsh neighbours and servants. They got fire
and a welcome, such as it was ; for it seemed
their coming was known, and more about them
than would have been guessed. So they passed

G 49

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- .^&?*$/-<,Thorolfskeldjil-ACl? \ ** . . - 7 .-J 1 CmJ v/ .-'^

jCT^^^al

fiSigBI|w^ES^ /I ^^^s^^u^^.i

" '38wfe^^-"^ii^i > -^^''^C>^"' *< ^^^^B^ ^^rr^A^^S rt C^fer

^K^^ ; m^S^^H^fe4-;SsS

4,^^^^^, ? r ^^^. : ^^Ml^^?j^^

j^^T\MAe^S^^I ^ ^V-o.wiT.srTT.-h;^ <^y. ^ tf ^j]^f^ f He^a^ed \*. J f ./ -^ j

the night in the ruined burg by the waterhead
of the winding mere, among the rocky fells and
forests.

Next morning their guide took them by a
road along the valley until they came to another
mere, a little one, under a great nab's scar:
over whose axle they climbed about to another
lake, not much larger, and with an island
in the middle of it, and shores all overgrown
with rushes and grass. The mountains around
seemed to rise higher and wilder, and on one
fell top was seen the likeness of a man crouching
down, as if he would roll great rocks upon the
road below. They looked at him again and
again, but their guide took up a stone and
pointed aloft, making signs that the man on the
helm of the crag was no living wight, but a
man of stone. And yet some of the Northmen
were not sorry when they had passed to the
other side of his crag, and saw him again in
the mist as if he were asleep on his elbow.
They were afraid of no mortal man, but they
knew that this was a land of wonders and war-
locks, and it could be seen that yon stone giant
had heard them coming and had stirred in his
sleep.

Not the least wonder was that road, running
through wild forests, up and down rocks and
hills, always straight forward, and paved with
cobble-stones; no little broken path like the
one that brought them to the water-head.
Swein likened it to the Manchester road, and
wondered if the Roman folk had been here too,

where no churches were, and whether they had
made that stone image on the fell for their god.
And in this mood they climbed over a high
hause where the mountains were at their wildest
and rough screes fell down from the rocks on
either hand through the ragged trees. And
soon they had an adventure.

For on coming down from that pass, they
found houses by the roadside where it crept
along the steep brink. A big man came out to
meet them, swaggering, and dressed in strange
ancient armour of iron fitted to his body like an
iron skin. All the same he seemed very filthy,
and sodden with drink. He gave them to wit
in Welsh that he was governor of this border-
land for the Cumbrian king, and seemingly a
greater man than the king himself. "For,"
said he, "Owain and his father are no Romans,
like the Donal that went before them. But I,"
said he, "am of right Roman blood, and my
name is Elphin map Rhydderch map Caradoc :
and I let no man nor woman pass without
tribute."

"Ah ! " said Swein, "here we have one of the
folk who made this road. I guessed they were
of the troll's kin. Look you, friends, no iron
will bite upon him."

And since the fellow would not let them pass,
Swein with little ado smote out his fist, as it
might be to try what would happen : and the
brainpan of Elphin was cracked against his own
stone door post. Their guide gazed awhile
upon him, and turned him over with his foot,
52

saying nought but " Aigh ! " And so they passed
on.

But here the houses thickened, and they
came to a city of Welshmen that was called the
city of Helvellyn. It was built on a rock above
the swampy flats at the head of another lake,
and fenced round about with a great wall of
huge stones. On one side was the mire, and
on the other side rough rocky ground and a
waterfall running down from the high moun-
tains. The road came up to it, and turned
sharp round to encompass it and to come in at
the gate ; and then, after passing through the
houses, ran out again ; and so to the cliffs over-
hanging the lake. At this city they stayed
awhile, and the people brought them honeymead
to drink: and it seemed as though Swein was
made much of, and pointed out by the women
and children, who came thronging to the door
of the house where he sat : and at their departure
a crowd followed them along the road, beckoning
with their hands and making merriment.
Swein thought they were glad to be quit of the
long-named carle, Roman or no Roman.

Then the road took them on the edge of
wonderful great cliffs by the brink of a long
mere, in the middle of which was a narrow
place, and a wath. Here there were houses,
poor enough, of men who seemed to be the
giant's kin, and there our travellers stayed for
the night. Next morning they crossed the wath,
and at the foot of the lake they came to a place
where four dales met among high mountains

53

and crags. And here there was a sweet spot
alone in the wilderness, with cleared meadow-
land and a little brook coming down from
Helvellyn through the leas, to meet the great
river that ran from the lake, and turning sharply
round went by a deep valley. Afterwards they
called this river Grit-a, which is as much as to
say the Stony water; and there is none indeed
that has a rougher bed. They took notice of
this dale because of its sweetness in the midst
of wild rocks and forests, and because it is not
often one sees four dales meeting in one spot
like the rays of the sign of Thor.

But their path led them onward through the
deep valley of the Greta, with crags on one
hand and a roaring river or spreading swamps
on the other, until they came to a wide plain,
and on the other side of it, at the foot of the
mountain Blencathra, their path struck a great
road which led them eastward. By nightfall
they came to another of those ancient foursquare
strongholds : and hard by, across a little dell,
the army of the Welsh lay at Penrhydderch.

Owain the king received them well, and
thanked them for their coming, and promised
them the foremost place when they should meet
the Saxons. In his tent they met Ketel Bolster
as Swein had called him, and the Northmen
from the holm on Solvi's bay, as they named
the Solway, and they fell in talk together. But
before they had spoken many words, men came
running in through the lanes of tents, crying
out "They are here! " Owain bade them have
54

peace : and took Swein and his chief men, and

went out to the brow of the hill. There in the

twilight they saw the valley beyond thronged

with a great multitude, and knew, by the lights

that started up from point to point, that

Athelstan with all his power was camping in

the fields of Dacor.

ACOR was then, as it is now, CHAPTER X.
the name of a village in a THE CARV-
pleasant vale, on the border ING OF
between the plain country of DACOR
Cumberland and the mountains CROSS.
Lakeland. Among the moun-
tains at that time were dwelling only wild

Welsh, and still wilder fell-folk akin to the

Picts of Galloway. But in the plain country

were many homesteads of Anglians and Danes,

dotted here and there beside the old high-road.

The Danes were new comers, who had crossed

the waterparting, the Keel of England one may

say, as they talked of the Keel of Norway.

They had invaded these western parts but fifty

years since, when Halfdan laid all the inland

regions under him from Carlisle to Conishead,

and remained there after his power had ebbed

back over the Keel again. But the Anglians

were old inhabitants since the days of Ecgfrith

and other great kings, whose heirs ruled at

Bamborough, though in diminished splendour,

until Athelstan took their kingdom to himself.
These Anglians were Christian people, and

had priests and monks among them. One of

their churches was at Dacor; and near by, a

55

monastery. A church is there yet on the spot :
as for the monastery nobody knows where it
stood ; but it was doubtless in that valley with
the lovely winding beck and among the acres of
corn and pleasant meadowlands which the
monks had cleared and tilled, bordering on the
wild home of rocks and wolves. The Welsh of
Penrith and Penruddock and Blencow lived
thus alongside of Danes and Anglians: not
always quiet neighbours perhaps, but yet on
some terms of neighbourhood : and if not good
subjects to Owain king of Cumbria, still
reckoned within his borders.

So when Athelstan had news about the plots
of Owain and Constantine to put back Sigtrygg's
sons on their father's throne, he marched from
York by the old high-road straight over the
Keel : and in three days he was here at Dacor
guesting with the monks. And his foes, who
had come south too late to carry the war into
the country of York, found nothing left for them
to do but to agree with him as best they might.

Athelstan the king sat in Dacor hall, and the
kings of the north swore to him as they had
sworn to his father Eadward: and they gave
their hostages into his hands, and renounced
their dealings with the idolaters, namely those
heathen Danes, the sons of Sigtrygg. "For,"
said Athelstan, "it is a shame if we, being
Christian men and ruling Christian men, suffer
these unbaptized pagans to ravage a Christian
land, to burn the churches, and slay the monks,
and rob the holy women our sisters. And if we

56

three but stand together, we might clear the
whole island of such knaves, and keep it clear
for ourselves and our people, in peace and
plenty."

To such talk at that while Owain and
Constantine were well agreed, and all the
readier because Athelstan's host was bigger
than both of theirs.

Now Constantine had with him a young son
of his, yet unchristened ; and Athelstan, willing
to knit himself closer to his new friends, said
that he would stand godfather to the child : for
in those days it was thought nearer than kinship
by blood to be god-sib, or bound by holy water
and the vows of baptism. So they brought the
young child to Dacor church, and baptized him,
and Athelstan stood his godfather.

When he was out of the water, and dressed
in white, with white linen wrapped about his
head, said the priest, " Here is water, king, as
the Scripture says: what should hinder these
from being baptized?" and he pointed to the
Northmen who were standing without, and
neither signed themselves with the cross nor
bent the knee at prayer, but stared in through
the church porch at the gilded imagery, and at
the glass windows that Bishop Wilfrith had put
there in ancient times.

With that there was some shrinking back
among those who had been most eager to look
on: and Athelstan turned and fixed his gaze
upon Swein, and spoke in the Northmen's
tongue, for he knew it well.

H 57

"What sayest thou, friend? Wilt thou set the
good example?"

"King," answered he, " I am a primesigned
man and no church robber."

(For it must be known that many of the
heathen were, as one may say, half-baptized:
not that they meant to change their faith, but
in order to have dealings in trade and otherwise
with Christians, who might have no communion
with the unbelievers).

"And," added Swein, "I have a mind to stay
as I am."

"But if I bid thee?" said the young king.

"Eadward thy father asked no such thing of
me, when I took him for father and lord two
years ago."

"Why, brother, I seem to have some inkling
of thy face. Wast not thou the brawler of
Bakewell?"

With that they laughed and Swein reddened,
and replied somewhat angrily, "Saving a king's
presence, I was no brawler, nor did Eadward
call me so, to my face."

" Nor behind thy back, believe me, good man.
For I tell truth when I say that after all were
gone, and we were together at supper, my father
said this to me : Boy, he said, we have done a
good day's work ; and I remember well how he
cracked a great nut when he said it. But, said
he, the best touch of my kingcraft, for many a
year, has been the winning of that stout franklin
and his fellows. And he charged me to leave
no stone unturned to get the love of you

58

Northmen, such as had settled peaceably within
our borders, and were busied in tilling lands
hitherto waste, and in the carrying trade about
our coasts. Now, what shall I give thee, since
thou dost refuse the best of gifts in my
keeping?"

" King," said Swein, "they say we Northmen
are greedy of gold, and of blood, and of plunder
alone. But by this I know that thou art wiser
than other men, and bearest a grey head on
those young shoulders. Truth it is when thou
sayest that we are busied in tilling waste places,
and in sea-trading; and this no man can gain-
say. And indeed if at times we are ready to
fight, and to fight our best, it is but to keep the
homes we have made with our own hands, and
to give them over no less than we hold them
into the safe keeping of our little ones."

Then Athelstan thought awhile and said " It
has been in my mind now these many days
that it would be a wise law, if every such
brave seafaring merchant who has made three
voyages with his own goods in his own ship,
should be called Thane of England. Will that
cap fit, friend?"

"Well, king," answered Swein, "many a
voyage have I made with my own bulk in my
own ship, cheaping a little and "

"And taking what came in thy way?" broke
in the king with a smile.

"That's as you may call it," said Swein.

" Well, for the law the Witan must look to it :
and for thee, friend, come to me once again

59

when thy mind is made up, after talk with the
priest here, and with the good monks hard
by."

The priest was glad enough to talk with
Swein, and so were the monks, for that matter;
and they went near to tearing him in pieces
between them.

First he must away to see the monastery:
and in it was a carved shrine of gold and
enamel, curiously worked, and holding their
treasure. Swein looked for a crown of jewels
at the least : but lo and behold it was only a
lock of hair. But they said that this lock of
hair was from the head of Cuthbert the great
saint of their faith: and that it had been cut
from his dead body when he was carried about
by his monks for seven years, fleeing before
Halfdan after Carlisle was burnt. And then
they told Swein of the wonderful things which
that lock of hair could do : how it had healed a
young man who was diseased in his eyes, and
such like, as was writ in the book of venerable
Beda. Swein wondered at the casket, but he
took little heed of the relic, saying he thanked
them, and he would come back to them when
his eyes ached, if no wise wife at home could
cure him.

Then they carried him back to Dacor
kirkgarth, where was lying a great pillar of
sandstone foursquared : and on it, drawn with
chalk, figures to carve: and the carver was
already at work with mallet and chisel, for a
monument of the kings' meeting. There was
60

the font of baptism, and over it the two kings
handselling their peace. Athelstan was drawn
much the greater because he was the greater
king: and he seemed eager enough in his
picture, while Constantine drew back like one
who would gladly get his hand out of the grip
of his friend. At which Swein laughed within
himself, and thought that the carver was belike
a true prophet.

Then there was a lamb above them, and
beneath, a hart worried by a hound, so fairly
drawn that it was like the life.

Under all was a tree, and a serpent at its
roots, and one who plucked the apples, and one
who took them to make him wise and to get
knowledge.

"Nay," said Swein, "that is no new picture:
but you have not got it right. This Adam you
call him, Odin, I say as I was taught, should
be hanging in the tree, as the rhyme says :

I wavered, I wot,
On the windy tree
Nine whole nights:
With weapon wounded,
Offered to Odin,
Myself to myself.
Gazing groundward
The runes I gathered;
Weeping I wooed them,
And won me down."

" Ah! " cried the priest eagerly, "thou art not
far from the kingdom of God. For what saith
the Scripture ? As in Adam all died, even so in

61

Christ shall all be made alive. Come with me,
and the Lord open thine eyes."

Then he took Swein into the little church,
and the sunshine came through the windows
upon the altar.

"Behold," said the priest kneeling, "One
hanging on the tree, wounded with the spear,
very God of very God: given by himself to
himself, that we who are his body might know
the truth, and that the truth might make us
free."

And more he added, earnestly entreating his
guest: until Swein laid his hand on the frail
shoulder of the priest, and said gravely :

"Young man, these two-score years I have
followed the gods of my fathers : and one while
they have been good to me, and another while
they have been evilminded. Now I will not
lightly take a new god at the bidding of
yonder king: nay, not to be Thane or Earl.
Nor do I wholly understand all thy words,
though meseems they are good words, and
spoken from a good heart. But this I say,
that no priest nor church shall ever be the
worse for me or mine : and when my day of
need comes, if thy God will help me, he shall
be my God."

He took the priest's hand, and went his way.
But the priest knelt there, weeping passionately
and praying, "Oh God, give me that man's
soul. Nay, not unto me, oh Lord, but unto
Thy name be the glory."
62

I AYMAKING was begun when CHAPTER
I our Northmen started on XL THE
[their journey to Dacor: and GIANT'S
it was not yet finished when BOON.
they came back, as empty-
handed as they went. When
they "were once again in the hall at home, and
the red man had brought them safe and sound
through flood and fell, Swein said to his wife,
"Now that this man our guide has taken us
in good faith through strange places, and
brought us home again, though little we have
got by our travelling unless it be gain to be no
worse off than we were, but the more assured
of peace and quietness : I would not send him
away without thanks, but I would give him a
gift, even if it be a good weapon, or as many
sheep as he can drive. Ask him then to make
his choice, and he shall not find us stingy."

Unna agreed very readily to this : and when
she had set it forth, the red man was silent for
a time, looking round as if to choose something
out of the house. At last he stood up, and
made a long speech in his own tongue, waving
his arms and shaking his head. While he
spoke, they saw her grow pale as grass, and the
tears came into her eyes.

"Swein," she said, "and friends all, here is a
hard thing for us to answer : and indeed I know
not myself what to do. For the man says
that he has enough and to spare of all the goods
he needs ; and that he is a chief among his own
people, so that he may not take a hired man's

63

wages for service done rather to his king than
to strangers. But if I understand him aright
he says that he saw at Dacor how men
had respect to thee, Swein Biornson : and
that even the great king of the Saxons
spoke with thee friendly, as with a great
chief. And moreover I gather from his words
that he has some foresight from his own dreams
or from a wise man's, that you strangers are to
be mighty in this land, and that nothing will
stand against you in the end : and that you will
wipe his people from the face of the earth, and
take from them the homes of their fathers.
Now he says that he would be thy friend and
brother; and for a pledge of our peace, he would
have nothing else but the fostering of one of
our sons."

With that they all cried out astonished, and
Swein laughing a little and harshly, said, "Tell
him that we do not give our lads to giants and
wild men of the woods nowadays, even if Signy
gave her child to Sigmund once on a time, as
the old song says."

" Nay," she said, "I will not anger him, or
he will do us a bad turn one of these days."

" Tell him that we humbly thank his lordship
for the honour, and one day we will wait on his
lordship at his lordship's palace."

But the red man, though he could make
nothing of the words, knew very well from the
horse-laugh and the rough gesture of Swein that
he was despised and his offer scorned: and
before Unna could speak, he dashed his great

club on the ground so that it tore a hole in the
paving, and made the cobbles fly. Then turning
round, he went swiftly and disappeared into the
woods as before.

They looked at one another as if mischief
should come next, but Swein said, "Take
courage, wife, and never fear that I will give up
child of ours to such a foster-father : and you,
friends all, be on your guard, and keep a watch
on the ford and the woods, so that we be not
taken unawares. As for you, barns, let me not
say it twice : stay with your mother, and never
wander away out of her sight, or the sight of
the good fellows who have charge of you."

Days passed, and months : and all that winter
nothing was seen or heard of the red man : until
it became a jest among them. For when
any of the boys were unruly, they would say to
snape him, " Folk would think the giant had thy
fostering."

But what with fear of this wood-man, and
what with lack of neighbours, Orm and Hundi
and Thorstein grew up in their father's house,
and were not put out to foster parents like
many children of that day. For all that, they
were not brought up in idleness, to be spoiled
lads and good for nought ; since, although
there was plenty of servants, it was the way of
these people to do their own work, and to show
their mastery in craft of hand as well as in
cunning of head.

There was a smithy on the farm; for how
else could they shoe their nags or fettle their

weapons? and Swein was proud to be called
master smith of them all, and would spend
many a winter day at the anvil, forging the iron
they brought in their boats from the Pennings'
people. So the boys picked up something of
the craft, maybe not so workmanlike as others,
and yet serviceably for the needs of people
whose things were less for show than for use.
Their fine jewellery and goldsmith's work they
had from abroad : but even so there was always
some conceit of daintiness or quaintness in the
way they turned out their homely jobs, because
their time was before them, and they liked
smithying, and lingered over it as a pastime :
curling the horns of a door-latch or a candle-
stick into ringlets with the tongs : twisting the
bar of a horse-bit into a screw, and engraving
a blade with devices or punching it into
patterns. And every bit of work was a lesson
to the boys.

Beside smithying there was always wood-
work to be done, for their houses were wooden,
and many things for which we use potter's
wares, they made of wood : as cups and platters
and all sort of vessels. In the winter evenings
especially this work went on round the hearth,
while the women spun and wove. The lads were
not long at whittling sticks before they were set to
make arrows and shafts for weapons and tools,
and it was a proud day when they made their
first piggin with hoops and staves complete.
And from that they got to carving, since these
people were as nice about their woodwork as
66

their iron, and could not abide a blank kist-panel
or door-post, after they had once got roof raised
and land stubbed.

Moreover on these winter evenings there was
story-telling and singing of ballads, which let
the lads into some knowledge of olden times, of
the kings and the gods, and especially adven-
tures in strange lands. Add to this that their
mother, half Irish as she was, and the Welsh
thralls with whom they consorted, as children
will with servants, taught them something of
other tongues than their own. And Unna showed
them their letters, drawing the runestaves with
a charred stick on a board for them to carve.
As to book-learning, they got on very well
without it.

~ PRINGTIME was now come CHAPTER

and the children of Greenodd XII. RAIDS,

went with their playmates from

the thralls' cottages to roam

the woods. For then were

the hollows among the
knolls by Crake side all carpeted with golden
lilies and dim white wind-flowers. And when
the time of these was over, bluebells, sweet
scented, and growing as thick as grass, covered
the glades. Thorstein, who was now four
years old, and some of his playfairs were in the
woods one day ; and their game was to make a
queen of the prettiest girl, dressing a bower for
her and crowning her with bluebells. In the
midst of it who should come suddenly upon
them but a wild red man, bellowing, they said,

like a bull, and shaking his great club as if he
meant to kill them all. But he only caught the
biggest and best looking of the boys, and
dragged him off. When the boy bealed and
screamed, the robber nipped him round the
throat, and soon stopped his noise. The
children ran home with their knees trembling,
and said that a giant had got their playfellow
to eat him. But whatever he did with him he
did not eat him ; for next morning before the
men could start to lait the lad, he came down
the beck with his head broken.

Said Swein, " No use to shut the door when
the roof has fallen in." Then he sent a good
gift to the thrall whose child was lost, telling
him to wipe his eyes with it : and forbade the
youngsters wandering in woods or out of sight.
So all was quiet for a time, and if there were
uneasiness about robbers, it was no more than
what everyone felt everywhere in those days,
when by sea and shore men carried their lives
in their hands, and trusted to luck to keep
their women and children from bloodshed and
slavery.

In the next winter there was much snow, and
the distant mountains were curd-white, both at
Yule and for many a week after. Even the
moorlands were covered and the forests were
choked : and when great storms blew, the mealy
snow would drift in streaming clouds, and fill
all the hollow places and the gills : so that many
wild beasts were buried in the drifts, and many
came down into the valleys, where the snow lay
68

not so thick and melted away between whiles.
Sheep and cattle needed double care ; for though
most of the stock was killed and hung in smoke,
some beasts always had to be kept, and fed
with the hay of the summer, and holly boughs,
which the shepherds cut and let them pick up
when they took them out from the byres and
folds. Even so there was always danger of
drifts, and the burying of whole flocks in the
snow: and then they had to dig them out,
which was a great labour to the men, but a fine
playtime for Thorstein and his brothers. For
to the boys the snow was like fairyland, and rare
enough to be something of a marvel to children
in sheltered Greenodd by the sea. What storms
they feel come mostly from the warm south-
west, and if the wind blows from north-east
it brings sunshine, with blue sky and black frost
that vanishes away long before noon.

One day Thorstein went with the shepherds
and their lads to an uplying fold to serve the
sheep, and found the snow much trampled, as
though wild beasts had been there, for all there
was a high turf dike around it, with a sharp
fence on the top such as no wolves were like to
climb. So the shepherd began counting out
the flock, in their way which Thorstein learnt
from him: "Un, dau, tri, y-pedwar, y-pump :
chwech, y-saith, y-wyth, naw, deg." And
we may say that our old folk still use this
way of reckoning little changed but to make
the words easier with rhyme, as: " Yan, tyan,
teddera, meddera, pimp; haata, slaata, sour,
down, dick: " and so forth.

69

When he had counted a score he marked it
off on his fingers, or scored a notch on a stick,
and began again. And so counting he found
that two sheep were gone : and worse than
that, they saw, by the blood on the snow and
by the footprints, that thieves had cut their
throats and carried them off. So away they
went to track the thieves at once, which was
easy enough because of the snow. Before long,
stopping to listen, they heard a crackling of
branches ahead, and shouted, and put Thorstein
in the rear, and pressed forward. Then were
seen through the leafless trees three men, or not
men but giants they seemed, long and gaunt
and red-haired. One had a sheep on his
shoulders, and another had a sheep on his
shoulders, not a little encumbered as they
pushed their ways through the underwood and
thick tangle.

The shepherds had gone too far to go back ;
and beside that, they were armed, while the
thieves had only their cudgels. But when it
came to blows, such was the tangle in the wood
that they were soon scattered : one was stuck in
a thicket, and another floored with a broken
head, and a third with a broken arm ; and the
robbers were off and away. So when they came
to collect their forces there was one wanting,
a. shepherd's son. They shouted and searched
the wood as well as they might, for it was
beginning to grow dark. In the end they were
forced to return home without him, and their
sheep were gone and all.
70

When they brought Thorstein to the house
and told their tale, Swein listened with a very
long face, and saw to their hurts : for it was the
chiefs business to be surgeon, both to handle
wounds until the blood stopped, and to set
broken limbs and bind them. It was the lady's
to make drinks of herbs for medicine. Some
good drink Unna gave them, and they went
home : but Swein and she talked late that night
after Thorstein was asleep.

The next day Swein himself, with a band of
men well armed, set off early, and soon found
the place where the fight had been. Thence-
forward by the broken branches, for it had
snowed and the tracks were covered, they
followed the robbers up the fell and towards the
moors. But when they came out of the wood
upon the heather, what should they see but the
boy who had been carried off, lying on the
ground, and dead. It was plain that the
robbers had knocked him on the head; though
why they should take him all that way, and
wherefore they should kill him at the last,
nobody could tell. Swein gave a good gift to
the shepherd whose son had been killed, saying
that he could get no other atonement at the
time: but that one day he would gather his
neighbours together and clear the fells of such
vermin. And he said no more of the matter,
unless it were of nights to the mistress.

7*

CHAPTER
XIII. LEG-
BARROW
AND

LEGBUR-
THWAITE.

LL that year king Constantine
and king Owain were quiet,
and held to the peace of Dacor.
But king Guthferth Ivarson of
Dublin, to whom Olaf Cuaran
had fled, was not in the treaty,
and thought himself in no way bound to refrain
from attacking the realms of Britain, but quite
otherwise.

For it was an old use and wont of the
heathen vikings to plunder Christians whenever
they got the chance : and there was now not
only the open door to York, but friends within,
the party of Sigtrygg's sons, bidding him to
come over.

So king Guthferth and his nephew Olaf
Cuaran and their host crossed the sea, and
landed, as our story has it, at Ellenburg by the
mouth of the river Ellen in Cumberland, where
now stands Maryport, and before those times
stood some old Roman city. Thence there was
the good road that the Romans had made,
straight through the fells and between the two
waters of Bassenthwaite and Derwent, and so
to Penrith, and over the Keel. In a week or so
they were again in York : but not for long. For
as soon as Athelstan heard of it he went North-
ward, and drove them home by the way they
came. There was a deal of confused righting,
of which folk never will know, and maybe never
did know, the rights. And sorely he blamed
Owain for giving the Danes passage through
his kingdom. But Owain came off this time
72

with the excuse that in Strathclyde he had
enough on his hands, and could not be answer-
able for vikings who forced their way through
the extremest borders of his dominion. Yet
when the same thing happened again and again
and every time the viking host left behind it
stragglers and settlers to hold strong places and
good lands on the Cumberland coasts, as a
flood tide leaves its wreckage on the shore, then
the English king was forced to take stronger
measures with the Cumbrians, as the tale tells
in the end.

Meanwhile Athelstan held counsel about that
borderland which lay around Morecambe Bay,
where our Northmen lived. Neither Swein nor
any of his neighbours had come in to him,
ready to be baptized and to take his service : or
maybe he might have set one of them over
these parts as Thane or Earl, to rule the
country in his name. On the other hand, the
land of Cartmel was already in the holding of
the priests at York, and they no doubt were
instant in their claims to take under them the
whole of which they held a part. So Athelstan,
for the good of his soul, and for the souls of the
Northmen who should be brought into the fold,
and for the better ruling of these outlying
borders, gave to the priests of York Minster all
Amounderness that is, the land of Lancaster
and the shores of Morecambe, being Lunesdale
and Kentdale and Hougun, and the coast about
Duddon and Eskmouth.

After a while came the summoner from York
K 73

church, to take tithe and tax from the North-
men, as he was wont to do from the Cartmel
people. But they made short work of him,
before ever he got so far as Greenodd : and
when next there was a meeting at Legbarrow,
loud talk was held about the matter. Even
Swein Biornson, though he had loved Athelstan
when he saw him at Dacor, was angry with
him now, for giving away what was not his own
to give, and lands that he never had so much
as set eyes on.

Then stood up one and said, " News, friends !
I have been lately seafaring by way of the
South-isles and thereabouts: and wherever I
came the talk was that Olaf Cuaran had gone
over from Dublin to Scotland, and that Con-
stantine the king had received him as guest :
and more than that, had given him his daughter
to wife. Now, what think you of that,
friends?"

There was a great hubbub when this came
out, for not a man of them but knew what it
meant and they were glad to think that if they
themselves had a quarrel with Athelstan, friends
would be easy to find. For by giving his
daughter to Olaf the heathen, Constantine had
already broken the peace of Dacor.

Well, some were for war, and some for
waiting; and they talked it over this way and
that, until Swein, who was their lawman at
that meeting on his own law-stead, bade them
have peace. "For," said he, "I know this
Athelstan, that he is a brisk man and full of
74

good counsel: and I know the Saxons that
they are not to be despised. If we alone set
ourselves up to make war we shall be fools : for
they have men enough to sweep us off the face
of the earth, as a thrall sweeps out a byre
with a besom. But if Constantine and Owain
and our kinsmen in the north are agreed, and
come together to invade the south country, well
and good. My rede is to lie still and watch
the weather."

Now Mistress Unna was all this while in the
house, cooking the supper for Swein and the
chief men of the Thing, and little did she know
that all the Northmen of Amounderness were
being ruled by her counsels.

"To lie still and watch the weather," says
Swein, and nodded his head and looked wisely
round from the law-mount on the brink of
Legbarrow. " But," says he, " pity we sit so
far away from those kinsmen of ours across the
fells in the north : better it were for us if we
could take counsel with them now and then,
and shape our plans together. For when we
were called to Bakewell, I mind me that we
knew nothing of what was forward. We went
out for war, and found the rest of them jogging
along as to a quiet and peaceable Thing-mote.
And then again when we went to Dacor we
knew nothing, and were but made fools of, and
much better had stayed at home. Now if we
fixed some place of meeting with Ketel and
the others in the north, we should learn the
news of those kings from time to time, and talk

75

over the affairs of our whole kindred, as we do
here among ourselves."

Then stood out one and said, "Swein
Biornson and all, I have a friend from over the
seas, new come from Iceland, Now in Iceland,
mayhappen you know, there are many of our
kindred who live as we do upon the lands they
have taken, and owe no more than we owe to
any man, least of all to kings in other parts.
For their worship and sacrifices they have
temple-steads as we have, here and there : and
for the punishment of evil doers and the
atonement of quarrels, the godi of each temple-
stead sees to it. But it appears that of late
things have come to such a pass, that manslayers
who have been outlawed from one country-side
have fled to another, and have been kept there
as guiltless men, and thence have returned to
do what harm they might on their old
neighbours. And so there has been fighting
and unpeace stirred up, and the authority of the
godi set at nought, as if there were no law in
the land. Therefore all the men of Iceland
have taken counsel together, and hallowed one
Thing-stead in the midst of the land; and at
mid-summer they are to meet there, the chiefs
all and all the free men, under one law-speaker.
And if any man has a grievance that cannot be
settled at a Thing by his own godi, there at
the Althing it will be judged by Raven Ketelson
the law-speaker over all. And there also they
are to fix the feasts and seasons for the year
that is to be : amd if any new law or custom is

to be made, there will they make it: so that
the whole land may be under one law, and be
of one mind, and at peace within itself. Now
it seems to me that if the Icelanders, being men
famous for their wisdom, have taken this
counsel, we too should do well to take the
counsel of Swein Biornson, and join with our
brethren of the north across the fells in such a
spot as we may find convenient, mid-way
between them and us ; to talk over our common
matters, and especially how we may ward the
land we have made our own, against all its foes
and ours."

With that they took their weapons and
shouted aye to this advice: and Swein said
"Friends, since we have agreed that there
should be this Althing established, it remains
only to mark the place of it, and to bid our
brethren in the north to meet us there. This
place here we find good for a meeting because
it is mid-most of all our land to the south of the
wild fells : and he who comes from Lunesdale
on the east has no longer journey than he who
comes from Eskdale on the west: and to
Kentdale and to Dunnerdale the ways are equal :
and across the bay it is not far to go, whether
by the sands or by the sea. Now, when we
were coming home from Dacor, we started in
the company of Ketel and his men, and when
we parted from him they had still a day and a
half to go before they were home, while we had
two days and a half: though doubtless on
kenned roads, and if we had nothing to carry

77

nor any hindrance by the way, we might make
shorter work of it. But I say that if we went
a two days' journey from here, and if they came
a two days' journey from their home, and met
upon the great road that leads through the
heart of the fell country, that meeting-place
should be our Thing-stead. And I think it
would not be far from a little dale you remember
well, near the foot of the mere with the wath in
it, and at a spot where four dales met. A fair
place it was, with a likely howe and a conny
bit of flat that offered well for a Thing-field, and
everything else fit for our purpose."

So, to make matters short, they sent the
arrow, by which men were bid to a meeting,
round the sea-coast until it came to Ketel's
holm and to Solvi's holm higher up the firth of
Eden. The Northmen thereaway met together
and agreed on their part to set off on the day
appointed : Swein and his neighbours set off on
the same day : and their two companies fell in
with one another by Thirlmere, which they
thenceforward called Brackmere, from the
Thing-brekka or hill of assembly, which they
hallowed at Legburthwaite, as we still call the
place, forgetting maybe that we say Law-burg-
field, being the midmost spot in all Lakeland
from Solway to Morecambe. And having
hallowed the place and held their meeting, they
made their tryst for next midsummer, and went
their ways home.

Lucky it was for our Northmen that they
took Unna's counsel, and listened to Swein

when he told them of the briskness of Athelstan.
For Constantine, who had received Olaf
Cuaran and given him his daughter, before ever
he could draw his host together to invade
England, while he was yet preparing for war,
saw the ships of Athelstan bear down upon his
coast; and fleeing inland, whom should he meet
but Athelstan himself with an army, come
through Northumberland to avenge the peace
of Dacor. And great mischief was done before
the English went home with pledges of a new
peace wrung from the Scots, who for their part
had no mind to keep it, any more than their
oaths of seven years ago, and only waited for
the day when they might take their revenge.

But if the York priests complained of their
new liege-men, and told Athelstan on his way
home how their summoner had been treated;
and if Athelstan laughed and bade them study
to be quiet, as the epistle says, and mind their
own business : it is no more than was likely.
For he had enough to do without taking his
host across the Keel to gather tithes from the
Northmen of Amounderness.

[OW the story leaves those CHAPTER
great kings and their wars, to XIV. THE
tell of Thorstein Sweinson, and FINDING
how he went up the river OF THUR-
Crake, and how he found the STON-
jgreat water at the river-head: WATER
the same that old folk call Thurston-water,
and we mostly call Coniston lake, from the
name of our village hard by it.

79

In the year after the ravaging of Scotland,
Thorstein was eleven winters old, and a great
lad : sturdy at all games of strength, and skilful
enough in all kinds of work that a lad was set
to do. He could catch a nag on the fell, and
ride it home through the heather; make an
arrow, and shoot it to the mark: handle the
smith's tools or the woodwright's : swim, and
row, wrestle and race with his brothers, and
often beat them, and always beat the thralls'
boys. Most of all he took pleasure in going
about with the herds, to look after the beasts
and the sheep on the summer-hills : and when
they were once out and away, he would egg
them on to take him farther, to see the little
dells and winding valleys on either side of the
Crake, as if he might find there something of
the great world which he had heard about and
longed to wander through.

It was nigh upon seven years since the wild
men of the fells had made their last raid and
carried off the thrall's son: but still Swein
would often warn his boys to keep within sight
of home, and bid them stay by their mother if
he himself were abroad. But he might as well
have warned the smoke not to go out of the
chimney. For northern blood stirred in the
lads: and Thorstein often looked down the
firth to seaward, and wished he were big enough
to go viking in a ship of his own. Orm said he
would go with him if it were trading he meant :
and thought that they might make a deal of
money by selling the thralls' children. Upon
80

which Thorstein hit him in the face, and said,
"Thou shan't get our little May-queen for one."
And he spoke no more of his plans to Orm.

Hundi was a better friend to Thorstein, and
they talked a deal together of the travels they
should take and the deeds they should do.
There were those great mountains in the far
distance, always beckoning to them; peopled
with giants and fairies, had not their father
often told them of the stone man that kept the
road beyond Grasmere ? and had they not the
dim remembrance, not easily let die, of the red
giant? They knew by hearsay of wide lakes
among the fells, lying all alone for the first
adventurer to take and hold. The beck that
flowed through their fields, and the greater
Leven that they could see from the howe or
from Legbarrow winding far away among the
hills, came down, so the Welshmen said, out of
wide waters full of fish and haunted by fowl
in countless flocks. And as they sat on
the rocks at Crakemouth when the tide was low
moulding clay arrowheads in the rune-shaped
clifts and chinks of the smooth rock, they
wondered what troll or fairy had been there
with chisel and mallet, and what more marvel-
lous marvel there might be to find in the
unknown wilds beyond. Crake, Cregiog as
their Welsh called it, the rocky river, came
down night and day, sometimes fierce and
swollen, sometimes faint and shrunken, but
always singing over its rocks the same song of
enticement. " If we could only track the beck,"

L Si

they said, "and find the great water, and take
the fish and fowl, and build a house by the shore
and make a boat ! "

So at last the wish grew into a plan, and the
plan into a purpose. When nobody was
looking they were to slip away: follow the
Crake to its mere, take the land about it, and
make a backwood bigging of their own. They
filled a bag with meal, took their knives in
their belts, and set off one morning early, as
though they were going for a day with the
shepherds. But where the fields ended, they
took the path to the outlying folds : and when
they were near the folds, they turned through
the woods to the river, so that they might not
be seen, and scrambled for a great way up the
stony channel. It was only half filled,
because, as often happens in those parts, the
spring had been dry, and the rainy weather was
yet to come on, after the days began to shorten.

For a while it was easy work : there is a flat
shore on the left hand, and they could run over
the shingle even where the water went swiftly
and fell in eddies and foam over rock-ridges.
But soon the hills on either side close in : the
banks are steep : the river foams beneath thick
trees which spread their branches, making the
squirrel's bridge overhead. Thus it is even
nowadays, but in yon old times in many places
great firs had fallen right across the deep
channel, or huge oaks had lost their hold of the
rocky bank from very weight of age, and had
rolled into the torrent, to be weirs and dams
82

that held the water and flooded the banks : so
that what with the swamp, wherever there was
a bit of flat shore, and what with the rock walls,
or the slippery sodden tufts of moss and fern,
wherever the gill-banks were brant, the lads
made but little way. And whoever has stood
upon Spark Brig and looked up-bank and
down-bank, and dreamt over a time when all
the mills and houses were unbuilt, and the land
uncleared, and nothing but wild timber, dank
and dense, filled the dale, with the logs that
rotted where they fell, and the brambles and
creepers that matted the growing trunks
together : and wild bulls and wild boars, wolves
and cats, hag-worms and lizards, and maybe a
bear or two, tenanted the place : he will know
what the adventure of those two boys was like.
And whoever has fought his way up one of our
moorland gills where the land is still rough, will
know how they stumbled over the shallows, and
scrambled over the boulders, and waded the
mires, and swam the dubs, as they came through
the jaws of Crake, and out into the easier
ground by the eyot beneath Lowick Green, as
it is now. There, if the river was less rough,
the trees were still thick and the banks steep :
and on the right hand the fells seemed to come
nearer : and standing out through the black fir-
trees high over head, white brows of crag
seemed to frown and nod above them, as they
sat on a great stone in mid-stream to take
their breath.

The king-fishers flitted past, blue flashes in

83

the green gloom. Where a ray of sunshine came
in through the vault of trees overhead and
pierced the brown water, they could see,
beneath mossy rocks fringed with fern, little
dippers running over the bottom among the
trout, and as free as if they were on dry land,
for all the rushing of the water. Now and
again a wild animal ran down to drink, and
started back crashing into the wood : but there
was no sign of houses, nor of men dwelling in
this uncouth wilderness.

They toiled on again, mounting the stream
where it breaks over long-drawn ledges, around
a rocky eyot at a sharp bend, and through a
swampy tarn (as it was then) till they came to
the spot where Lowick bridge now stands. It
was high noon. They sat down on the steep
bank above the swamp ; and taking handfuls of
the meal from their bag, soaked it with
the clear fresh water and made their dinner.
When it was done, said Hundi, "Well, old
forge-ahead, how much farther? For my part I
call the shepherds' tales all Welsh lies. There
is no great water that we can see, only this
dirty puddle : and we shall have work enough
to get home before supper-time, down the
screes we have climbed and this waste of
rubbish."

"Nay," said Thorstein, "the beck must
come from somewhere, and I mean to see the
end of it."

"What, and sleep in a tree like a squirrel?"

"Why not, if I must, thou slug-a-bed? The
nights are short and warm enough."
84

"Well then," said Hundi, " I will sit on the
howe over there, and wait until the conquering
hero comes back. I'll count a hundred, * and
then."

"And then go home like a wise lad to thy
mother, and say Thorstein is coming to-morrow
with news, and a great fish out of Thorstein's
mere; for it will be none of Hundi's."

" Hundi's howe is here, Thorstein's mere is
nowhere." And indeed afterwards the story
says that Hundi lived hard by, and was in the
end buried on that howe: but that is still to
tell. Said he, "A wilful beast must gang his
own gate, and I'll not mar sport, nor splash thy
mere to frighten thy whales. Come, Thorstein,
don't be a fool. Turn back with me now, or
rue it!"

"Neither, dear lad: and don't anger me, but
hie thy ways home, and bid them not worry.
Happen I'll light on my journey's end sooner
than we think for."

"Happen thou'll light on mischief sooner
than thou think'st for. Come along, I say."

"Go along, I say. We can't miss the road,
for its down-bank for thee and up-bank for me
to the end."

"Nay, that's an ill speech," said Hundi, "for
parting."

"Well then, home for thee, and away in the
wide world for me, for evermore. Will that
suit?"

"Nor that either. I wish thee luck, and thy
big fish: and I'll foreset the scolding that

85

awaits thee : and have thy breakfast kept warm :
for yon bag of meal will be gone before
to-morrow, if I know aught."

"Good lad, then; we part friends:" and
Hundi turned and slid down the bank and
splashed down stream: for he was always an
easy-going lad.

But Thorstein toiled on as before, and found
his work no less, at first : for he had to win his
way up Lowick force and through the swamps
at its head. But then he saw, at last, rising
above the trees, a crest and a cone, of high
rugged fells, distant indeed, but not a mere
blue line as he had seen them from the heights
of Greenodd. The afternoon sun threw its
lights and shadows on the great scars of
Dowcrags, and the rocks of the Coniston Old
Man stood out bold in the blue air.

The lad's heart leapt up, and he shouted as
he plunged again in the rapids that swirled
beneath the wild steeps on his right, and the
long dark slopes of Blawith, the Blue- wood, on
the other hand. By and by he was lost again
in the crooked ravine where the Nibthwaite
Mills now stand, where the water narrowed to
half its former breadth, and slid over ranks of
rock, sloping downwards like carven tables, or
a giant's stairway, sunken and aslew. But at
the head of every force, there were the great
fells again in sight, and every time nearer and
clearer, grander and more wonderful. At last
he came to a sweet round tarn. It was bedded
in the woods, and the likeness of every several
86

branch lay upon the water. Thorstein shouted :
but then he stayed. Was this the mere he had
come so far to seek ? and no more than this ?

He pressed forward, round the miry edges of
the tarn, and stumbled through the narrows of
Arklid. Hitherto the stream had been ever
narrower, and, but for a few ledges and flats,
ever steeper: but here it suddenly became both
still and deep, and opened out into breadth.
Thorstein's heart beat hard when the wood
thinned, and the waterway broadened, and the
world grew brighter, and lo, beyond, a great
gleam of blue, and a blaze of golden sky.

Close beside him, seal-bushes fringed the
shilloe beds, bulrushes stood in their ranks
right out into the shallows, and purple flags
and white and yellow water-lilies lay along the
edges of the lake. On either hand, seaming
the deep forest that clothed the sides of the
valley, sharp craggy spurs came down, as it
were gateposts to the hall of hills ; and broke at
their bases into long nabs, rounded here and
rocky there, running far out into the mere and
tufted to the water-edge with dark oaks and
dark firs. And between, there were blue nooks
of ripple reflecting the evening sky, and the
wild ducks and teal swam through the ripple,
and the gulls floated above it : and in lound
spots a hundred rings showed how the fish were
rising.

Thorstein climbed a howe on the left : and as
he climbed, the lake opened up before him.
Beyond the nearer woods there was the deep of

87

CHAPTER
XV. THE
GIANT
GETS HIS
FOSTER-
LING.

blue, and the lonely island in the midst of it :
and from his feet, away into the uttermost
distance, the huge fells, tossing like the breakers
on a stormy beach, and rolling away and afar
like the heaving waves of the sea. And over,
them late sunset brooded in the North, with
bars of level cloud, purple and gold, and fading
rose-flecks overhead.

Unwearied in his exultation, the lad ran
down to the shore again, and stripping off hood
and kirtle, hose and shoes, all stained and
ragged with scrambling through brake and
briar, he waded out into deep water, plunged
beneath, and swam sturdily through the calm-
ness. Then he flagged at last, and crept
ashore, and donned his clothes, and looked
about him for a safe night-lair ; smiling as he
thought of Hundi's horror at sleeping like a
squirrel. He crept into the boughs of a great
spreading oak, and its thick leaves sheltered
him like a thatched roof and hid him like the
hangings of a shut-bed. The level clouds drew
together ; the purple colour darkened into black ;
and a line of dusky light alone lingered in the
North over Helvellyn, while he slept, dreamless.
HORSTEIN slept on in the
tree long after the day had
dawned through those level
clouds : for at mid-summer in
Lakeland it is never black
night; the sun only dives, as
it were, behind a fell or two, and up again ;
and you can follow its track by the light
88

that travels round the north, like the ripples
which betray a diver in shoal water. But
this dawning was a dull one, for those level
clouds had lowered, and thickened, and turned
to rain : and wind came up from the seaward,
as the gulls had foretold. And yet it mattered
little to the lad in his oak-tree lair, except that
no loud singing of birds awoke him, and the
dimness of the light let him sleep on when he
should have been well on his way homeward.
For as to the plan of taking land and building
a house and a boat, that was out of his mind
now that Hundi was gone. To take land, one
must go round it with fire, and have witnesses
to the deed. Some other day he would come
back, now that he knew the road. And it was
lonely waking there in the damp, hungry and
stiff, with all that waste of wilderness to tread
before ever he saw home again.

Back along the bank of Crake and round the
little tarn went Thorstein until he heard, in the
woods on his right hand, shouting, and the
voices of men. At once his heart came into
his mouth and he stood stock-still to listen.
Could it be Hundi come back, and the Greenodd
folk in search of him ? What if they should go
forward and find his mere, and he away and
out of it all ? What of the chance of a good bag
of meal or a barley cake somewhere about
them ? For he was both clemmed and starved.
So he crept through the wood, and now and
again the noise came louder. He followed it,
slowly forcing his way among the deep fern and
M 89

the brambles under the great trees. The voices
were heard more plainly now, singing and
shouting in a strange manner. It was not
Hundi and the Greenodd folk: but who?
Thorstein was drawn by a great desire to know
this secret of the woods, and to add one more
marvel to the story he should tell at supper.

On the top of a little howe, clear of trees, but
rocky and ferny like the wildest moorland,
there was a great heap of stones, whether grave
or cot it would be hard to tell : and beside it
in the fern sat huge men, red haired and red-
bearded, crane-legged and clumsy handed and
jolter-headed, clothed rudely in skins, and
devouring great ugly gobbets of flesh from a
roebuck they had killed, and seemed to eat
with little or no cooking. Thorstein gazed at
them openmouthed and astonished : it was like
a dream of the wonders he had pictured to
himself, but never fully hoped to set eyes on.

The branch he held by, snapped : and
forthwith there was a terrible shout, and a crash
on his head, and he seemed as in a dream to be
falling down a dark pit.

Then it was all light, grey light, and no
green gloom of the woods; and beneath him
the red ling-blossom fled away, as he was
carried by someone or something swiftly over
the wide moor. He began to know that .he
was weary and in a great pain of his head ; and
at every stride of his bearer he was jerked so
that it hurt him. He kicked and struggled ;
the huge red man put him into the middle
90

of a deep heather-tuft, and set himself down to
look at the lad, as a cat watches a mouse.

Then Thorstein rose on his knees and tried
to scramble away, but the giant man just
reached out and gave him a great batt with his
hand, that sent him heels over head, scratching
his face in the heather. Then the same thing
happened again; and the third time Thorstein
plucked himself together and flew at the giant,
snatching out his knife, and minded in his rage
to stick it in anywhere or anyhow. But the
giant never moved off the stone where he sat :
he just caught the knife in one hand, and with
the other crushed the lad down. He looked at
the knife long and curiously, then he nodded
and laughed to himself. Then he looked at
Thorstein where he lay on his back, kicking up
the ling-blossoms : and then he waved the knife
as if to draw it over Thorstein's throat. Thor-
stein shut his eyes and his mouth as tightly as
he could.

The cold knife cut his neck a little, and the
blood came; Thorstein waited to be killed.
The rain pattered on his eyelids, and when he
opened them again half blinded, but not with
tears, the giant was looking at the knife-handle
and the pattern on its blade: and nodding to
himself. Then he picked up the lad under one
arm, and strode off through the heather.

9*

CHAPTER
XVI. THE
FELL-
FOLK'S
HOME.

EYOND the heather was the
giant's home, on the fell
^between Blawith and Brough-
ton. You may find the spot
even nowadays with little
earching, if you make for a
farm called Heath wait e, and up behind it to
the brackenbeds between Kirkby Moor and
Blawith Knott. There among the borrans
which the mowers have heaped of autumns to
clear the land for their leys, there is a deal of
other borrans, and older ones, that no man
minds the building of: though yearly work on
the land keeps them up, so to say. You can
see that they are ruins of a kind of homestead,
with its little garths, and greater intakes on a
ridge of fell. On one hand there are the waste
wet mossss of the moor, and on the other
hand, far below, the great flats of Woodlands,
dotted with old farmsteads and thwaites, and
surrounded by the tossing rocky range of
Dunnerdale fells, from the Coniston Old Man
on the right hand away down to Black Comb
and the glittering sea.

In a high place like this, people might live for
many a long year unseen and unknown of their
neighbours in the dales: and if they were
hunters and robbers, no doubt they could pick
up a living of a sort even now : but in old times
when the land was waste, it was as good a place
as could be for the home of wild half- savage
fell-folk. The ground is not so high as to be
bitterly cold in winter, and at a time when
92

there were trees in plenty where now is only
fern or heather, they could find cosy shelter.
Down in the valley at that time every thing was
smothered up in wild wood, or uninhabitable
for swamps and dampness, except where the
ground had been cleared and drained by the
hand of man. But high on the moors the
ground drained itself: so that both for health
and wealth it was the moor that was the
chosen home of the earliest dwellers among the
mountains : and their children lived on in the
old places here and there, even after new comers
had begun to make their farms and villages
where we see them nowadays.

Here at Heathwaite fell you can see the walls
of their buildings, and even in little corners
what may be chambers, or store-houses, or
fire-spots, or what not, curiously built of great
stones: but all quite different from the farm-
buildings of our own people, and plainly the
relics of an earlier race. Beside these homesteads
there is one heap that is round and hollow in
the midst, with a spot for a doorway, and well
built within and without. Though the top of
it is all fallen in, one can see that it might have
been a hut shaped like a beehive, and roofed
over with stone walling like those Pict-houses
they tell of in other parts : this would be high
enough inside for a big man to stand up in, and
broad enough for him to lie at length. And all
about the place there are the remains of huts
ruder and more ancient than even this, though
not of the kind that were made in the earliest

93

ages of all, when folk used only stone tools.
These show some knowledge of walling; and
yet among them is plenty of graves where the
fell-folk doubtless lie buried. At one end of
this settlement, as they call it, there is a great
barrow in which folk digging found burnt bones

THE GiATNT'S GRAVK

and you can see the tall stone that stood at the
head still standing there. They call this place
the Giant's Grave: and old neighbours tell that
it is the burial place of the last of the giants
who dwelfr in that moorland village, and that he
was shot with an arrow on that very fell side,
and so was killed, and his race ended.

Well, when the big red man strode off
through the heather and the ragged birches of
the moor with Thorstein under his arm, this
was the spot he came to. He marched in
at the gate of the intake, and up to the
homestead through cattle-folds with little cows
94

of the old Northern breed and rough mountain
goats, grazing between the walls: and through
patches of kale and rye by the side of the tarn
which lies blue and clear in the midst of the
place. There in the evening sunshine, among
the huts, would be a dozen or so of women and
children, dirty and half-naked, both the old
hags and the little goblins. They had four posts
set upright in the earth, and a skin stretched
over them in which was seething upon a fire of
sticks a mess of flesh in its own broth. Some
were making ready for the evening's feast, and
some were cobbling skins together : but for the
most part they were a set of idle do-noughts, to
reckon by the filth and hugger-mugger in which
they lived.

They raised a screech when Thorstein was
brought in and cast on the ground : and set
upon him to stare at him and pull him about ;
until what with the raggedness of his torn
clothes and their handling he was mother-naked,
and not a little ashamed of his plight, and of
his white skin. Not that the fell-folk were
blackamoors; but they were sunburnt with
going half-naked, and grimy with dirt. So there
he sat, part covered with litter and bracken
which he pulled over himself; and he brazened
it out as well as he could.

95

CHAPTER
XVII. THOR-
STEIN'S
BONDAGE.

N a while the rest of the men
came up, not all as huge as
the giant who had caught him,
but all long fellows, gaunt
with fell-running and hard fare.
They began their feast, dipping
bowls and spoons into the skin over the fire,
and drinking out of horns and cups until they
were merry. Then one of the youngsters spied
Thorstein where he sat, and threw at him the
bone he had been gnawing. Thorstein warded
it off with his hand, and others that were
thrown : but whenever they hit him there was a
horse-laugh. When all the bones were gnawed
and thrown, one of them picked up a dart,
which he threw at the lad : and it would have
made an end of him, but Thorstein dodged it :
at which they all cried "Oigh! " and seemed to
wonder at his address.

Last of all one of the men, seemingly enraged
at his luck or cunning leaped up and ran at him
with a cudgel, a thick stick with a stone
hammer-head at the end of it. Thorstein had
been through too much to cry out now: but
what was his surprise when one of the children,
a great girl with long red hair over her bare
shoulders, ran in and flung her arms round him,
half smothering him with her mane and the
closeness of her embrace.

Then there was gabbling in a strange tongue
while she kept him tight and seemed to forbid
the giant lad to touch him : and the chief of
them all spoke long, waving his arms and

nodding his head, as who should say " Let the
barn be, and we will keep him for our thrall."
He seemed to show how he had threatened the
lad with his own knife, and held up the knife,
and pointed away over the fells : from which
Thorstein gathered that they knew whence he
had come and somewhat of who he was : and
for the first time a gleam of hope shone into his
heart.

In the end they gave him some of their meat,
which he loathed and could not swallow: and
pushed him into the stone hut, the best that
there was, though even this could not be
entered except by creeping: and they signed
that he should lie down and go to sleep. But
little sleep came to him : the place was filthy,
and he was among unfriends ; his head ached
and all his bones were sore. So he watched
them as they came in one by one, and stripped,
for the hut was as hot as an oven : and they lay
down, as it seemed, in a heap, like snakes in an
old tree root.

At last all was quiet without, and within they
were snoring. The air was thick and foul:
Thorstein could not breathe. It was fun to
sleep in a tree with squirrels, but this was
sleeping in a pighull among swine. He dragged
himself like a worm, a little nearer the doorhole
and then lay still. After a while he dragged
himself a little nearer : and lay still again, with
his heart beating so loud, he feared it would
awaken them all.

Out into the fresh air Thorstein crept in the
N 97

end : and it was like a draught of cool ale after
haymaking to taste the night wind. He stepped
warily between the huts, straining his eyes in
the gloom lest he should run against anything,
for the night was cloudy and there were no
stars, not even the dawn-streak in the north.
He groped his way like a white ghost to the
first wall, and began to climb it; but just as he
reached the coping, down it came with a rumble
and a thud, and the stones fell on his feet and
crushed them, so that he could not stir for the
pain. And straightway he was in the grip of
the giant again, who belaboured him with a
dart, as if he had been a dog. The pain of his
crushed feet and sickness was such that Thor-
stein felt little of the giant's blows, though every
time the dart-head touched him, it cut into the
bare flesh.

But when he woke up at last, it was in the
nasty hut : and every one was gone except the
child who had flown at him before; and she
was nursing his head and weeping over him.
She looked so ugly, thought the boy, as he
opened his eyes, with her face all blubbered
and red, and the tears making dirty water-
courses down her freckles, and dripping off her
chin, and upon her rough red hair that hung
all about. But when he came to himself, she
called out shrilly, and an old woman brought
milk in a pan and put it to the lad's mouth :
and when he drank, the child let go his head to
clap her hands and laugh. It hurt Thorstein
to drop his head, but he thought she was less

ugly when she laughed, and threw back her
hair : and he saw that her eyes were blue, and
her teeth shone. And it rested Thorsteinwhen
she took up his head again, and smiled and
stroked him.

To make a short story, he lay there for days
and nights, and sometimes slept, and often
raved, and only now and then knew that the
child was holding him and giving him drink
from the milk-pan. Whether it was dark or
light when he awoke from wild ugly dreams of
swamps and snakes, and things chasing him
through the brambles, and high endless walls to
climb, and torrents of stones rolling down with
him into the snakes again : whenever he came
to his senses there she was, and no other pillow
he had. In the end, the fever left him. As for
his wounds they let the bark harden, and
Thorstein had a whole skin before ever he was
strong enough to stand up in it.

But when he could look about him, the child
seemed to be eager in giving him what pleasure
she could. She brought out a little kist that
held her treasures: there were shining beads,
and pennies of silver and gold with holes to
hang them by, and a gold thing like a Thor's
hammer, but Thorstein guessed it must be a
cross ; for the child set it up and knelt down
before it and prayed, looking sometimes at it
and sometimes at him. Thorstein knew that
his own people set little store by Christians,
because they were not so good at fighting as
the Northmen, and because they could be over-

99

CHAPTER

XVIII.

RAINEACH,

reached by their chapmen, so they said: and
he thought that all strange uncouth folk were
Christians, as a matter of course : and so the
wonder was less that giants and troll-kin in
filthy huts should be of that faith.

But when he slept again after this awakening,
he dreamed that he was at home, and his
mother was kissing him good night, and stoop-
ing above him through the hangings of his
own shut-bed : but her hair seemed to be all red
like fern on the fells after early frost when
the summer is over.

O Thorstein was healed of his
sickness; but not until the
summer was far spent, and not
until he had begun, little by
little, to learn words of the
fell-folk's language. For what-
ever the child did for him or showed him she
was not silent about it, but chattered the while,
and often said its name loud and plain ; and
when he said it after her, she laughed and
nodded. When she brought him milk she
would say "Bainne:" and sometimes when he
was thirsty the little roguish creature would
wait awhile, as he clacked his tongue and licked
his lips, until he would say " Bainne : " and then
she laughed and brought the milk-pot. And
Thorstein soon learnt with such teaching, and
never thought of being shy as children are when
they are taught a strange tongue. Nor was it
quite strange to him : for his mother had told
him a few words of her mother's language,
100

which was Erse, and not unlike the words of
these people, only spoken a little otherwise.
So when he one day saw a ring in the child's
treasure-ark, and came out with "Fainne," and
saying "Meur" put it upon her ringer, she was
astonished, and the rest of them laughed.

Now that he offered no longer to run away,
they treated him well after their fashion. He
got the cream of the milk, as if he had been a
chiefs son at fostering: although the cream
was always sour from keeping in foul crocks of
rough clay; and indeed they liked it so, as
though new cream were tasteless. There was
always plenty of flesh meat, of roe-deer and
hares and other savoury sorts, good enough,
said he to himself, if one does'nt watch the
cooking. As the saw says "What the eye
never sees, the heart never grieves after," so
their clarty ways vexed him less and less, as
the days wore, and as Greenodd began to be
like a dream on the other side of awakening.

Lying in the hut, or sitting out in the sun
wrapped in a deer-skin, Thorstein watched the
people, and when they were not so new to him
they seemed less strange and uncouth. Even
when the men came in, whereas at first he crept
as far out of the way as he could, at last he was
drawn to look on at the game they brought,
red-deer and roe-deer, wild boar and hares, all
manner of moor-fowl and mere-fowl, and
wonderful fish, spotted trout, and silver and
golden char, whose pink flesh is the delicatest
of all eating. Thorstein had seen some little

101

sport at Greenodd, but it was plain that here
the great lake was a teeming fish-pond and the
great fells one deer-park, and that these red
men were the cunningest of hunters and fishers,
if their farming was nought.

Nor were they rough with him now. Once,
when a huge youngster began to tease him with
some more horse-play, the giant carle who was
father and chief of them all, laid open the lout's
head for him. And if once he had thought
that they had no manners, and their customs
were beastly, now he began to find that they
were cunning in their own craft, eloquent in
their own tongue, kind to their own kin, and
proud of their own havings. It was not always
growls and blows : many a time the little wench
would play with her ugly father, and cuddle
him prettily, and he would pet her as if, said
Thorstein to himself, they were no Christian
savages, but decent Thor-fearing folk. And if
he had looked down upon them as the dirt
beneath his feet, he now gathered that they
reckoned less of him than he thought for, and
kept him at arm's length while they treated him
well, just as a boy treats a squirrel he has
caught, stroking it while he holds it hard, for
fear it should bite.

So the summer wore and the autumn came,
and Thorstein was kept within walls or close at
hand. He spent his time with the women for
the most part, helping them in their work, but
much as he liked. They let him stack wood
for fires: sew and fashion such garments as
102

they made from skins, or from cloth that they
got by barter for pelts among the Welsh.
Sometimes he was let milk the cows and goats,
and take them to pasture; but then there was
always somebody to watch that he should not
run away. Other whiles he tried his hand at
woodwork : but it was long before they let him
handle a knife, and when they did, sharp eyes
were upon him all the time. But they seemed
mighty pleased when he turned out little stools
and boxes, pegged together with wooden nails,
or bits of hooper's work that would hold water.
And as he began to be useful, so he got on
famously with them and felt homelike.

The child who had nursed him gave him to
understand that her name was Raineach, that
is Fern: and indeed she was not unlike the
bracken when it is red in autumn, and she was
slender and strong and wild as its tall fronds
that smother up the hollows among the boulders
on the moors. She was maybe a year or so
younger than Thorstein, but as tall as he.
Gartnaidh mac Tairneach, which is the Son of
Thunder, was the name of her father, the giant
as we may call him, for he was a head and
shoulders taller than even a tall fellow among
the Northmen, and far away bigger than the
Welsh. Raineach was pleased when she found
out Thorstein's name and what it meant in her
talk; for it is as much as to say the Thunder-
stone, because Thor is nothing else than the
Thunder-god. "And so," said she, "We are
brother and sister, for the Thunder-stone is the

103

Thunder's child." And Thorstein by this time
was little loath to have it so : and whenever his
mind went to Greenodd it took Raineach there
too, and he could see her in his dreams in their
hall, sharing his trencher and cup, and friendly
with Hundi, and tormented by Orm. So he
put off the escape that sometimes he planned,
until he might persuade her to run with him.

But when at last he had words enough to
open out his mind, and to tell her of his longing
for home, she was astonished and grieved, and
gave him to know that she thought him a very
lucky lad to be living in such good company
and so well off as he was. For many days she
was cool with him and said little: which
angered him, so that he would say nothing to
her. Once when they were out with the goats
together, and she was groping in a blackberry
bush, a wild cat sprang straight out at her, like
a shot from a sling: and fixed teeth and claws
all together in her shoulder. Thorstein had
the creature throttled in an instant, but great
work it was to get it off, and to kill it, bang as
he might with his thick stick. And then he
got her home, and the women put herbs on the
bite to take the poison out, and to stop the
blood. So it was Thorstein's turn to be nurse
for a while, and his sulkiness melted away : all
the more that she gave a fine story of his
bravery.

Which when the giant heard, he said the
little fellow was good enough now to go out
with the men. And after that, for many a
104

weary day and through many a terrible night,
trotted he behind long-shanks and his lads by
moor and mire, chasing the red deer and the
roe, and snaring the fowl of wild-wood and
water. And one while he got good words for
his work ; and other whiles, for all he could do,
it was nought but ill luck, and an empty belly,
and hard blows to his back. But to such
doings one hardens when limbs are young, and
each time the weariness and the danger are
forgotten. Hunger and cold, and rough com-
panionship, and the squalor of the huts became
too common to be feared any more. And as
the months passed, the boy waxed and throve
in the keen air of the fells. He grew cunning to
track the slot, keen of eye and deft of hand,
like any savage of them all : and Raineach was
proud of her foster-brother.

[HEN Thorstein had found his CHAPTER
tongue and could talk to the XIX. THE
fell-folk in their own speech, he THREE
would often tell Raineach about TASKS.
IGreenodd and his home.

Sometimes in the winter
weather, as they were crouching by the open-
air fire in sleet and wind to dress their meals,
or cowering in the foul huts from the storms
that swept the moor, there would come before
him, like a dream, the bonny eld-house and its
beloved rafters, and the bright things gleaming
on the wainscot, and the lasses in their neat
kirtles a-spinning or a-sewing ; his mother with
her needle, and his father with woodsmith's
o 105

tools, and all so cosy and well-to-do as they
worked and sang in the warm fireshine.

Then he would whisper to the giant's lass,
as they huddled together in the muck, and the
men growled or snored, for there was little
to do in the winter up there but sleep it out
like bears, and he would say, "Raineach, I see
them, I see them ! There's our great dog asleep
with his nose on the edge of the hearth, and
father is kicking the logs together, and he pats
the dog and says to mother, ' Where's poor old
Stein now? I wonder if he's all right some-
where, or tanning his hide in a cold peat-pit.'
Mother shakes her head at Hundi and says,
* Eh, lad, it was a bad day thou tookest him off:
the elder should have been the wiser.' For I'll
uphold it Hundi has led a hound's life ever
since. But I can see mother working flowers
on a kirtle, and she has been working at it every
day this back-end : blue flowers, Raineach, and
gold leaves on a brave red stuff: eh, if you saw
what I see, you would see some bonny things
and all.

"And the chapmen will be coming about,
with packs full of wares from all the round
world, and they'll be feasting them. And at
Yule, what doings! Pies, lass, as big as ant-
hills : and butter to thy haver-bread, and honey
in thy porridge: and laiks in the afternoons,
when the tables are cleared and folk pull skins
across the fire, and one side lets go and down
they tumble : and one is blindfolded and hunts
the others: and I'd show thee a safe place,
106

Raineach, so that they could'nt catch thee.
How thou'd laugh, and how they'd laugh : and
how we'd sing and tell stories, and get eh, that
frightened, and then mother would say ' Barns
to bed,' and we'd pull the clothes over our
heads while we heard their goings-on. Grand
it would be if I could get thee there to peep in
on them all."

With such talk, Raineach, who had looked
on Thorstein as a poor savage at first, came to
feel a great longing to see what wonderful
things might be yonder across the fells: and
once even asked her father whether they could
not pay a visit to Thorstein's folk at Greenodd.
She said they would come back again, never
fear: and maybe bring some of the things
Thorstein told her of. Gartnaidh laughed at
first ; then he growled, and shook his fist at the
lad, and bade him say no more to the child.
And for a good while they found it hard to
come together : there was always something for
her to do, and something for him elsewhere :
and life was worse than before.

At last when spring came, Thorstein plucked
up his courage and said boldly that he wanted
to go home.

"Well, my little man," says the giant, "here
we have nursed thee for a summer and a winter,
and given our best: and what," says he, "shall
we get for a parting gift ? for it is little we have
got as yet."

Thorstein said that his father would be sure
to give something.

107

"Nay," says the carle, "I know him and his
gifts."

Thorstein reddened and bit his lips.

"Now," says the giant, "do this for me, and
I'll let thee go: keep my cattle this twelve-
month, and see them well served : but if one be
missing thy head shall pay for it."

So the lad became herdboy to the fell-folk :
and well he knew his job, for he had been
among the beasts at home, and was used to all
that belonged to cattle. But these were well-
nigh wild, and bad, bad to manage. Often
they would break bounds, and give him a rough
job to hunt them out of the mires and woods,
where wolves might get them before ever they
had time to be lost. And many a night it was
only by the help of the lass that he could gather
them together and drive them into the fold for
the milking: and sometimes it seemed that an
unfriendly hand would loose them, and give
him a sad scare. But Raineach managed so
that in a while the rest of the folk were ashamed
or afraid to meddle. And they throve that
summer, and after the slaughtering at the back
end of it, Thorstein kept as many as would
make up his count for the spring: and was
diligent in serving them with everything he
could lay hands on. So the end of it was that
when winter was near spent he delivered over
his full tale to the carle, and bade him farewell.

" Not so fast, my little fellow," said the giant.
"I reckon nought of this. Here are all my
beasts again, no doubt: but what more? We
108

are no better off than we were.' 1

"What then?" cried the lad, aghast.

"This," said the carle. "Seest yonder tarn?
When it is as yellow with corn as it is blue
to-day, we will talk more of this matter : but if
I hear another word, it will be the word for
knocking thy brains out with this club of
mine." And he dashed about him with his
great oaken cudgel in a way that was grewsome.

So Thorstein was angry and mad angry ; and
in his anger set himself to bale the water out of
the tarn the giant had pointed to, one of a
many there were in those days about the
settlement, though now they are all peated up,
without it be Pewit tarn. Then Raineach came
and stood by; and when she saw the water
trickling back into the pool, and the rain beating
into it, and the sweat running off the lad's face,
she laughed. He asked her what she was
laughing at: and she said, "At thee." Then
he threw at her the crock that he was baling
with, and bad her begone for a heartless wretch.
But she drew back, and it fell on a stone and
was broken : at which she laughed the more.
Then he sat down and wept. And she came to
him in the rain and comforted him, and called
him a fool, which is often the best comfort from
one that can help.

"Look," she said, "silly lad, how the water
runs out of the broken pot. Break the tarn,
and it will be dry."

"Nay, I know that well enough," said he.

"Well, do it," said she.

109

"But how?" said he.

Then she showed him that the rock ran in
ridges, and that he might dig the earth away
between the ridges and make a beck. So he
dug the earth and made a beck : but still there
was water in the tarn.

"Who is the fool, now?" said he.

"Not. I," said she: "throw upon the tarn all
the earth out of the digging, and fill it up."

Thorstein thought she was a clever lass, and
threw all the stones he could find, and a deal of
earth upon them into the tarn ; and if it was
somewhat miry, it was no tarn any longer.
But now he was let down for seed to sow : and
beg as he might, they said they had but enough
for themselves. Then after some days of bitter
words and nights of useless thinking, came
Raineach with a bag full of corn. She would
not tell whence it came, but it was good seed
corn : and Thorstein sowed it, and watched it
morn and eve, and built a fence around to keep
man and beast out of it. And glad he was
when it showed above the brown earth, and
fain when the ears began to turn yellow: and
bade the giant see to it, and let him go forth-
with. But all he got was a growl and a roar.

"Where did that corn come from?"

"Not from thee," says Thorstein.

"Thief!" says the giant.

" Liar ! " says Thorstein : and they were both

as angry as they might be. But the giant

would not kill him, and best knew the reason

why. For he meant to keep the lad against

no

a time when there should be trouble with the
Northmen, and then give him over as a ransom.
So he was in no hurry to let his prisoner go.

"Look you here," says Gartnaidh at last:
"those great firs yonder where the crows build,
they must be cut down and made into a house
for me, before ever I let thee go."

"Ask another to do the job," said Thorstein.

" Never another will I ask," said the giant:
"folk that can make corn grow in tarns, can
make firs into houses."

So Thorstein toiled at one of the least of
the trees with his knife and a litttle hatchet, the
best he could find: but he could only notch it
round, and it stood as straight as ever. Then
Raineach came and laughed at him again, and
bade him go to sleep till she helped him : but
she would not say how or when. And in a
while she disappeared altogether.

One day when nobody was nigh, the men all
away hunting, and Thorstein bewailing himself,
he looked at the firwood from afar, and thought
one of the tree tops shook more than the wind
used to shake it. By and by it fell, and he
heard a crash in the wood. He ran down to
the spot, and there was a great tree on the
ground, and chips of new-cut wood all about it :
but never a soul to be seen. Then the lass
came laughing, and saying it was magic, and
the good folk would have none of his spying;
and so she took him by the shoulders and
pushed him out of the wood. Magic or no
magic, she managed that on certain days the

in

men were out early and home late, and none of
them noticed [that the fir tops were gone : and
Thorstein was hugely puzzled. At last he went
to the 'spot by stealth, and saw strange men
working there : they looked^like Welsh, and he
guessed they might be from the brough across
the flats. They had many of the trees down,
and sawed, and squared into timbers, that men
might carry on their shoulders. Raineach was
not there ; but round the neck of the foreman of
them, as it seemed, was her gold cross hanging.
Then the lad^knew how she had helped him :
and right proud he was of her and her favours,
and told her as much.

So when the winter was on them, one day
comes Thorstein up with a plank on his
shoulder, and "Where is thy house to stand?"
says he to the giant.

"What!" cries the giant, "who felled my
trees?"

" They are felled," says the lad.

"Not by thee," says the giant.

"That's neither" here nor there," says Thor-
stein : "where is the house to stand?"

The giant was not ill pleased to think he was
to have a house like the Northmen, and so he
let things be : and Raineach made the lads of
the fell-folk help, in that they dragged up the
big timbers right merrily, and Thorstein was
master of the works. And if his building was
not great nor very workmanlike, it was game to
him when the studs were sunk in the ground,
and beams hoisted and fixed with pegs, and

112

rafters began to show the shape of the roof.

And all this was done with the tools left in the

wood by the strangers, of whom nothing could

be heard. Most folk said it was fairies.

JEFORE the building was done CHAPTER
that is to say in the early spring XX. OVER
when Thorstein had been now THE FELLS,
three winters among the red
folk, there was once more
(rumour of war throughout all

the north, and the sound of it came even to

these wildernesses, so far as they were apart

from the dwellings and intercourse of men.

For Gartnaidh the giant, being in this respect

like Swein Biornson, was a borderer and a

dweller on no man's land, that is to say he had

no laws nor kings over him, and was bound to

no government of lawmakers. And yet he was

akin to other Gaels dwelling up and down these

parts : who, though they were at ancient feud

with their Welsh neighbours, yet could let

sleeping dogs lie when it served their turn, and

play at give and take, or even do good work for

Owain the king of Cumbria. For since these

hardy hunters and fell runners knew the

lie of the land better than settled ploughmen or

towns-folk, in many ways they were useful, as

in guiding the Northmen to Dacor, and in

spying upon them often, when little they knew

what eyes were gleaming through the green

leafage. Add to this that Gartnaidh and his

like found the king's service not unprofitable ;

and poor folk must live, however proud they be,
P 113

So when war was talked of, the news came
to their ears somehow, handed on from one
to another of the woodlanders, or picked up at
market ; for there were times when they came
in to sell their furs to the Welsh or Anglians at
burgs and trading places on the outskirts of the
mountains, as at Broughton or Ravenglass,
Cartmel or Bowness.

This time it seemed certain that the north
was going to rise against the south in good
earnest. Constantine and Olaf Cuaran, Owain
and the new Dublin king Olaf Guthferthson
had made common cause. Says the giant to
Thorstein, "Thy folk will be gathering at their
meeting-place in the mountains, and that is
hard by our meeting-place too. Thither I am
going, and if thou hast a mind to see thy
father"

"Say no more," cried Thorstein: and they
made ready for the journey.

In those days, to one who knew the country,
the best roads were not always the high-roads,
but the tops and ridges of the fells. The
valleys were all umbered up with trees, or
choked with swamps ; and what with wild
beasts and what with wild folk, travelling was
no child's play. But in the waste wildernesses
of high moorland, on the tall rock-ranges that
joined peak to peak like bridges in the air,
foe in shape of mankind was hardly to be
found. It was rough work over snow in winter
and through moss and mire in summer-time,
and a stranger would easily be lost and never
114

seen again : but these hunters were at home
anywhere between Skiddaw and Blackcomb.

Gartnaidh the giant, with Thorstein and a
few of the lads that followed him, were not far
on their way, when there was a stir in the
woods behind them, and presently through the
coppice came a slim running figure, in brogues
and tightly knit plaid and deer skin, and a
great bush of red hair streaming behind.

"How now, Raineach?" says the giant:
"what folly is this? We want no wenches on
this journey."

With that she pouted, and when he bade her
turn back, she began to weep, and sat down on
a stone to lament. Thorstein was vexed to see
her cry, and would have stayed by her to
comfort her: for indeed it had been a sore
parting but a little while before. Then the
giant took him by the elbow and shoved him
along the road, telling him not to be a fool, or
never a sight of his father would he get.

Well, they went along for a space : and as
they climbed one height of the many on that
moorland around what we call Beacon tarn,
where the lad used to fish with the lass : and
while he was thinking that after all they were
happy days he was leaving behind: just then,
one of them cried out that there was a stir again
in the birch boughs on the height they had left :
and a red spot flitted over the heather from
cover to cover. Gartnaidh bade the man shoot
an arrow to scare their follower : and the man
shot, but took good care to aim wide.

They pushed on, until they were out of their
own grounds, so to say, and nearing the houses
of Coniston. For even in those days there was
some habitation by the beck that leads down
from the copper-mines. They say that even in
the time of the Romans mining had been done
thereabouts, when the old roads were open,
and the country, since fallen into waste, was
more populous. The name of the village,
which is as much as to say King's-town,
signifies perhaps that the York kings had
officers there to take royalty and dues from
those mines: as perhaps at Conishead king's
men took toll from the ironworks of Pennington
and the traffic by the old road of Furness : all
such metal-works paid tax to the king in
ancient times. But in the time of our story,
whatever ancient doings may have been at
Coniston, were already of the past : the people
who then remained were but few and rude, the
children of fathers who had seen brighter days.
Yet were they better off than the fell-folk in the
high grounds, of whom scattered families lived
here and there in many a spot on the moors.

As the travellers came towards the place,
along the brow between Banniside and the
lake, there was a shout in the rear, and a
scream, which they could not but understand.
So they ran back on their traces, and soon saw
Raineach fighting and kicking in the grip of a
rough fellow, who made off when he saw the
big men. It was little use to scold her, and
too late to carry her back home. Gartnaidh
Mfi

said no more when she came up with them,
and only strode on with his best foot foremost,
so that it was all she could do to trot after and
keep in sight, for many a weary hour.

From Coniston they slanted up great crags
by a narrow pathway until they got to the top
of the high waterfall we call the White Lady,
because she comes and goes like a wraith.
Thence they found their way over the bogs
to Wetherlam cove and the head of the great
gill that runs down into Yewdale, Wolfdale
the Northmen called it, as it seems by its old
name of Ulldale; and a terrible wild place it
would have been in those times. Then away
they went up and down over the rough fells,
until they found lodging for the night in a lone
dell Langdale-way, with some kindred fell-folk
who had their huts there. The children were
right glad to rest their swollen and battered
feet on a heather-heap all night, whether asleep
or awake, while the men talked loud round the
fire.

The morning it was up and away over wilder
ground than ever, climbing by the ledges of
rock to the bogs that make as it were a
thatched roof above the walls of those great
mountain houses, whose streets are the dales,
and whose gables are the peaks. All day long
it was wading work through the mosses, or
clambering over the screes, up and down long
slopes that seemed in the passing clouds and
showers to lead nowhither but into the rain and
the mist. In the afternoon they were aware of
117

a great valley beneath them. They had come
so to say to the eaves of the house of mountains
and yet could not look over, nor see what was
going on below. But they were above the dale
through which the great Roman road goes,
where lies the city of Helvellyn and the lake of
Thirlmere and the Northmen's Law-burg-
thwaite.

At the city of Helvellyn, as Gartnaidh
reckoned, there would be some force posted to
defend the border and the main road to the
south, for it would be a likely point of attack.
With this point guarded, and the coast road,
and the Maiden way that comes through the
Westmorland fells, king Owain would be safe,
and free to throw his whole power upon York
by the great way over the Keel. And it was
thought that the king himself might soon be
there, to speak about the defences with the
people of the place, and with the Northmen
whose Althing would soon be held hard by.

But Gartnaidh had no mind to put his
daughter in the way of O wain's soldiers, any
more than to leave her in the clutches of the
ruffian on Banniside: neither would he give
Thorstein the chance of getting away before his
time. So he avoided the Welsh burg at
Wythburn, the city of which we spoke, and led
them down upon a dwelling of his kindred,
such as dwelt here along the brink overlooking
Thirlmere, on the Benn as we still call it in
their language, the great mountain between
Armboth and Thirlmere water-foot. .

118

[OWN came they through the CHAPTER
bracken, which was just be- XXI.
ginning to shoot among the ALUINN.
boulders of the moor, and
were stopped by a group of
[men who seemed to have
sprung out of the ground; and indeed for
colour and rough aspect they seemed to be
part and parcel of it, as paddocks match mud
and caterpillars mimic twigs of trees. A shout
in the fell-folk's tongue put all to rights
without fighting; and then they saw two low
houses on the slope of the moor, built of great
stones and roofed over with peat. They passed
by these to the head of a gill that ran sharp
down between cut rocks, and then they found
more of these houses, all low and foursquare in
the plan, better built than the Heathwaite
dwellings, but squalid enough. There were
people about, who welcomed them when they
knew who the visitors were, and came out of
the huts, unkempt and fierce as Gartnaidh's
folk, and yet as proud as he in their mountain
fastness.

It was built on a nab between two ravines,
and the only path ran steeply down to the wath
across Thirlmere. From this spot one could
see the length of the lake and all its rugged
shores, cleft into scars and steeps, and whatever
was not rock or water was trees. Over against
them was the great wall of Helvellyn, rising
high, and seemingly sheer and unattainable in
the clouds of heaven. Such steepness and

119

such dizzy terror of falling the children had
never known, as when they came to the utmost
of the houses, which stood on the axle of the
nab, where on either hand and in front the
ground fell suddenly away, as when one stands
on a high tower, and men are like mice

underneath one's feet. A woman kept house
in this place, not old, but no longer young;
tall, and sinewy in her arms, with beautiful
fair hair : but a harsh face, and a harsh voice.
She welcomed Gartnaidh, and said little to the
children, but did them no harm, and gave them
a better supper than they were used to have
on Heathwaite fell. For though the cot was
120

rude, she seemed to have plenty, and there
were neighbours, and the road was below, by
which a sort of marketing could now and then
be done if one had the means; whereas at
Raineach's home neither love nor money
could get what was never there to be got.

When they had eaten, out they crept as
children do, to see the new place they had
come to : and looked over the brink into the
gill with its soft moss and purple butterwort
cushioning all the rough hard rocks, and sweet-
fern fringing the fountains that sprayed into
dimpling basins among the stone, or slid down
black slopes under a roof of silky-barked birch

Q 121

and white-flowering rowan. Here and there
ancient gnarled hawthorn-trees clung to the
crags: one especially was thick with may-
blossom, as if it were loaded with snow: its
rich almond scent hung about the place, coming
and going like a breath.

The children scrambled down the steep side
to get at its boughs from above, for it grew
close to the slope, like a flower in a girl's
bosom. But when they broke a hole as it were
in the white thatch, what should they see but
the loveliest lady in the world sitting among
the twisted boughs, and the finest prince in the
world, as it seemed to them, standing below,
and reaching out his arms to her, and speaking
passionately, with his eyes afire and bonny
smooth cheeks aglow. But when he saw the
strange little faces thrust through the blossom-
roof, with wide opened mouths and staring eyes
like goblins, he slid away with a start, down
the forest slope, like a snake in the whins, so
that they could just see the flash of his mail
and the glint of red and blue in the leafage as
he disappeared. And when they looked again
for the lovely lady, she was gone.

They were too astonished to say a word, but
Thorstein held Raineach's hand, and they
climbed back to the cot, and crept in, bidden
to sleep by the woman of the place. It was
not long before something bright was at the
door; and in came the lovely lady they had
seen, with grey eyes wide open as if she saw
wonders, and a smile that stirred their heart-
122

strings, and all her golden hair flaming about
her green gown.

The woman they could only be mother and
daughter looked at her quickly ; and looked at
her again: and even Gartnaidh, who had not
yet gone away, bent his brows upon her in
amazement. Then he made one of those
clumsy reverences of his, for he had at whiles
a sort of half forgotten courtesy about him,
like a man who has seen better days. "So
this is thy lovely daughter," said he. " When
I saw Elphin map Rhydderch, the worthy lord
warden of the march, roll in the dust, little
did I think what sweet flower would have
sprung from such a dunghill."

"Peace," said the woman. "And thou,
Aluinn, what news?"

"News?" said the beautiful girl. "Grand
news! Nay, what news should there be?"

"Fool," said the mother. "Greet thy
kinsman Gartnaidh mac Tairneach Famhair
(that is, the giant) and give word of thine
errand."

She kissed the big red man on the beard,
and stood thinking : and said "Ah, the king's
men have come, if that be all."

"Well?" said her mother and Gartnaidh.

"Oh, a good troop; maybe three score,
maybe six score. I forget."

"And the king?"

"Oh, aye, the king, I suppose, and the
young king, I suppose: and all as it should be.
But oh mother, the hawthorn is sweet to-night,

123

and the birds are wild with their singing, and I
was fain to bide out in the gill. It was bad of
me, for I should have been here serving the
company. Is our good kinsman suppered?
Where are his folk? What can I do to help
thee?" and she began as if to busy herself
with the housekeeping.

"Peace, child," said the mother. "Gart-
naidh mac Tairneach is served, and for his
folk, they are bestowed. Two of them,^hush,
they are asleep."

But Thorstein and Raineach, vaguely be-
thinking them of manners little learned on
Heathwaite fell, sat up on the heather heap in
the corner which was their bed, Aluinn started
at the two goblin faces, the red head and the
tow head, unkempt and uncouth, rising in the
dark corner: and she screamed and laughed
wildly.

"What's to do with the silly thing now?"
cried the woman, and shook her : but all she
got was a flood of tears.

Gartnaidh was mightily aggrieved that his
children should be taken for goblins, and all
manner of talk was held, as Aluinn came to
her right mind : and said she was sick, and lay
down in her bed. And so they all rested,
uneasily enough, for that night.

In the morning she was quite another lass,
and chattering like a jay. Raineach her young
kinswoman was made much of, and if she
stared shyly at the wonderful beauty for half a
day, she was won over into companionship by

124

the afternoon. The lad was ill at ease: he
could not tell why, though nobody spoke him
aught but fair. Gartnaidh was away to the
king's army: and now and again there were
sounds of stirring below, as if horns were blown
far down through the forest, and men shouted.

Thorstein moped about, staring at the great
mountains half hidden by rain and mist, while
the two lasses foregathered. He came in and
helped his hostess with her tasks, but she
looked at him askance. He had never felt
more a stranger, even in his first days among
the fell-folk. At bed-time, the beautiful Aluinn
turned to him and waved her hand. " Lads lie
there : " she said. " Raineach is my bed-fellow."

Thorstein crept into the place she pointed
at. It was a little tiny shed at the end of the
hut : a sort of kist of stone walling, just high
enough to crawl into, and long enough to lie in :
a dog-kennel or fowl-house it might have been.
But the heather was soft within, and he crept
out and gathered more, and piled it around
him.

Early in the morning he was awakened.
Raineach's face was at his feet, peeping in
through the door-hole. "Heigh!" she said,
whispering loud and eagerly. "Thorstein,
listen ! I know it all. The bonny man is the
king's son. Wake, Thorstein! Aluinn wears
his gold collar round her neck: I saw it when
she doffed her clothes. And she gave him her
ring. Thou wilt give me a gold collar,
Thorstein? Wake up, lad! And thy father

125

CHAPTER
XXII.

THORSTEIN
SEES HIS
FATHER.

killed her father, think of that! He was a
wicked man, and they were glad. But Domh-
naill is a lovely man. And if thy father hadn't
killed her father, she would be a lady at the
Castle down there. Domhnaill is the king's
son, Thorstein: and Aluinn will be queen,
Thorstein. Oh poor Thorstein, they said thou
wast a wolf's cub : but I said nay. Now, thou
must have a red coat, and I would have thine
eyes shine like "

"Go away ! " growled the lad from his lair.

OW all this while Thorstein
was eager for a sight of his
father: why else was he here?
And all the more because his
heart was sore against Raineach
who could so lightly leave him
for her fine friend. He bethought him, little as
he knew of love-making, that he must cap yon
glittering Welshman, or else be cast off as a
good-for-nought and a lout. There was only
one way of doing this: namely to get back
among his own people, and let it be seen what
like they were, and what like was he when his
hand was in its glove again.

Over yonder he knew was the Althing-stead,
somewhere across the water. Run he could
and swim : why not away ? So he slipped off
and slid down the gill, steep and steeper down
the great crags beneath the fell-folk's houses,
and buried deep and dark in trees that covered
the brink on both hands with well-nigh
impassable thickets. Down the cliff he went,
126

holding by tuft and ledge, and at last let
himself go, sliding down the scree with a fall
that brought him to the water's edge.

It was a black basin of rock into which the
white foam tumbled through the ferns, a secret
place among rowan and hawthorn. In the
splashing water lay great rocks, some as it
were bits of carven pillars six sided, and others
whose fragments were bright with red and
green colours, and curiously inlaid with patterns
of white and black that looked like lace work.
They seemed to be the precious stones folk
put in rings and brooches, only larger and
more precious in every way. He picked them
out of the water, and broke them smaller to get
the glowing bits out, thinking what fine
jewellery he had lit upon: there would be
enough for more than Raineach could wear,
aye, and for every one he knew: and maybe
gold might be found where jewels were, if he
could but light upon it.

He hunted stones up and down the gill until
he was wearied, not to say bruised and bleeding
with his scrambling among the sharp rocks and
with many a fall in dub and force : so he lay
down, wet as he was, beside his heaped
treasure, and slept. But when he awoke, the
bright colours on the stones had all faded:
they shone only while they were lying in the
water, and against the black and grey of the
wild rocks in the gill. The white hawthorn
and the purple butterwort were brighter by far,
and faded not so soon as the fairy colours of

127

these stones.

Then he bethought him to explore the gill
and find his way down to the lake : for every
beck comes to dale at last. But this was no
beck like the streams of the low r er moorlands.
It was all fierce forces with rocks on cither
hand, and when the ground was ever so little
passable the trees had got a hold of it, and
hedged it up. And yet he won down, and
lighted upon the road that led to the wath.
Then came folk. Thorstein went back into
the wood, for he dared not risk being seen in
broad daylight. He forced his way up the
brow of the fell aslant through the trees, and
struck a path that brought him to the houses
above.

So the long day wore, and the gloaming
came late as it does in Lakeland in mid-summer :
but it came: and the lasses were abroad, and
the woman throng with her house-keeping in
the cot. He slipped away down the gill again
and found the big road, and stood awhile
wondering whether he should swim the lake or
go boldly by the general fording-place. Then
there was a noise of horses and men. He
climbed a hammer, a jutting rock that overhung
the road, and lay down flat upon it to see and
not be seen.

The troop of way-farers came on in silence,
as wearied men who had travelled far between
morning and this late twilight-time, on wearied
beasts, ponies we should call them rather
than horses : for the nags they rode in those
128

days were tiny compared with the great
chargers of the knights in after ages. It was
grey mirk by now, and only when they came
close beneath him did Thorstein know them for
Northmen. But even so their mailcoats and
their fighting helms of iron, with great leather
flaps, disguised them. He crept nearer to the
edge to look over. A stone fell from under him
and one of them passing beneath looked up
sharply. " Father, father ! " cried the lad ; but
at that very instant was gripped from behind,
and throttled fiercely, and dragged up into the
wood: with two great hands round his neck,
and a knee in his back to hold him down, quick
or dead.

Beneath, upon the road, there was a scurrying
to and fro, as Swein Biornson swore it was his
lad's voice, and he would know it anywhere.

"Nay, man, it was but an owl," said some:
and others upheld that it was some trick to
draw them into ambushment : or maybe a troll
of that hag-ridden wilderness. Swein climbed
the hammer, where nothing was to be seen or
heard, but the roar of the beck in the gill, and
a grisly groaning in the wood, that might be
wind in the trees, or wood-sprites, or what not.
So they went forward, none the slower for this
adventure: and the sound of them died in
distant pattering.

"Ha, my little wolf-cub," said the giant

Gartnaidh, loosing his grip of Thorstein's

throat: "so thou hast eyes for thy father, and

none for thy foster-father. Well, what was my

R 129

CHAPTER

XXIII.

DOMHNAILL

promise? That thou shouldst see him: arid
thou hast seen him. Good: we art quits. Now
no more straying of nights, dog. Get to thy
kennel." And he drove him through the
woods with many a stripe, and kicked him into
his lair, and rolled a big stone against the hole
of it.

O there we leave Thorstein to
bite his hands and weep for
that slip between cup and lip,
the bitterest he had known.
Gartnaidh came into the cot,

^ _and what should he see but

Raineach, giggling and wide-eyed over a
silken scarf that a gay spark, he knew him well,
was tying round her bare shoulders : and the
house-mistress smiling and becking and bowing
like a fool. Aluinn was not there: but they
seemed merry, and the wild lass looked quite
bonny in the firelight.

"What, goodfellow giant!" said Domh-
naill, with somewhat shame-faced bravery, as
Gartnaidh scowled in at them; "here we are
all as merry as hares by moonlight ; and upon
my honour, I make my best bow to the father
of such a bright little thing."

"See;, what he has given me," said Raineach
with childish pride.

"She'll be back before long," said the
mother. " I warrant, now I know of it, Aluinn
just slipped away to look for somebody. But
take something, sir. It's little we fell-folk
have to offer the likes of you : though fair's the
130

day that brought you : and it's a poor place for
a king's son, though the last drop of Roman
blood juns in the veins of our Aluinn."

"It's the sweetest spot in the world, mother"
said Domhnaill: "and no finer greeting can I
give you when we take our Aluinn to court,
and all the lords of the land have to bow down
before her."

Then Aluinn burst in, breathless and haggard
and panting. She flew at her lover and held
him tight, taking no heed of them all.

"What now?" cried they, and the young
man unwound her arms from his neck, and
held her off a little.

They learnt bit by bit that she had strayed
out to look for him, and away on the road
toward the wath. She had hidden while a
troop of men rode past, Northmen they would
be, going to their meeting place. She had
heard them splash over the ford, and then it
was dark and she turned homewards. But
suddenly she saw a light, as if some wayfarer
were camping in the wood by the lake-side. It
brightened and spread, until she thought the
forest was on fire. But no sound of crackling
branches or hissing flame could she hear. The
blaze grew broader : sparks flew on high, and
all round 'it seemed one great flickering. Then
she was terrified and fled by the well-known
wood-paths, daring no more to look behind
her.

The men went out to a little spying-place on
the uttermost brink of the nab, but fire there

was none. The glow of the Northmen's
Thing-stead was hidden behind Great Howe,
and the Welsh city was away beyond the
crags.

"Why, pretty one," said Domhnaill, coming
in, "what fancies are these? The heather's afire
I know, for all the country is up: but that is
the only blaze, and black night it is between
here and Helvellyn."

"But I saw it," said the lass shuddering.

"It was only a glint of moonshine: come,
little silly, let us be merry again."

"Nay," said her mother thoughtfully, and
stood up, tall and strange. " She saw it. I
have seen it. Twice before I have seen it, and
well I know the sight. Once for death : and
again for death : and the third time."

"Come, good mother," said Domhnaill,
"never seek to scare us. King's sons and
queens that are to be, give no heed to old
wives' soothsayings. Aluinn, smile now, and
drink. It will do thee good, and me too."

" Peace, young man," said the mother. " Are
not all thy men now bound for battle, and
unappeasable war with the great king? Which
of them all, think'st thou, which of them that
drink to-night and shout drunkenly round their
fires, will come unscathed out of the fire of the
fight, to march hitherward again in triumph to
the homes of their fathers and their children ?
Nay, I tell you, not a man of them all. And
which of them will lie in agony on the desolate
heath far away in Saxon-land, till the ravens
132

pluck out their eyes, and the wolves tear their
hearts out of the riven harness? Aye, by that
token, many and many a one. I see them there,
the proudest, the mightiest, the bravest: I see
them in their blood: and I see the handful
that flee over heath and hill, in their shame and
their sorrow, terror-stricken before the sword
of England and trembling beneath the spear
of the stranger, fleeing to their lairs in the
mountains and to all the wild-wood fastnesses:
and I hear the wail of the mourner, and the
scream of the captive, and the curse of the
mother that bore the coward and the coward's
son."

"Ah, my life, go not out to this battle,"
cried Aluinn, clinging to him. "Stay by us in
peace : and if evil must come, let it roll over
thy head, lying hidden here in safety."

"What!" said Domhnaill, "shirk the play
for a girl's vision and a woman's fears? "

"King," said Gartnaidh, "for thou, lord,
may's! be king before this moon has waned,
these are no idle counsels. A brave heart is
the praise of youth, but a seeing eye is the
glory of a king. Hear me. Gartnaidh mac
Tairneach is no coward, but he is old : and life
is good to him in the woods : is it not good to
thee in the city and in the court ? And if blood
must be shed, why should the blood of father
and son redden one field together ? Stay by us
here, and claim from king Owain the warden-
ship of these marches. It is a post of honour.
And so we shall keep the seed corn while we

133

spend the reapings of the harvest."

Thus they talked until morning, and it was
resolved that Domhnaill, nothing loath, for the
sake of Aluinn if not to save his own skin,
should withhold himself from the battle.
Gartnaidh, because he knew the land, and was
cunning as a spy, got the ear of King Owain
next day; and saying nothing of the vision,
bade the king go in peace, and begged that
Domhnaill might be left with the defenders of
the border, to keep them in heart, and to be
king of the land in his father's room, to do
justice upon the upstarts and peacebreakers,
who always showed their heads when the king's
back is turned. Such advice was held to be
good, and the army went on its way to fight

Athelstan at Brunanburg.
f T~f A PT "P "R ^ssM*^^^

XXIV THE ^^^^VA-^ILEAN gone were the Welsh-

r T A XTTC men at l ast > and the Northmen

GIANTS them; and then came

CASTLE. Ik,-'- ^SSilSI ~ .,, ,

Gartnaidh and dragged poor

'Thorstein out of his lair, where
he had lain a night and a day
with little ease: and took his daughter with
them : and over the mosses they travelled, no
long way, to the stronghold where the fell-folk
were used to retire in times of war and trouble.
All along the Benn their houses were scattered,
but on the side away from Thirlmere there
is a deep valley. No wilder might be in any
part, and scarcely in any land inhabited, than
this that opens at Shoulthwaite. On either
side high cliffs, brant and broken, rise above
134

the sheets of ruin, which fall from them among
scanty leafage of battered forest-trees. In one
place the crags frown over the gill as they frown
nowhere else in our fells, overhanging their
bases, as if they would topple down with a
breath. The gill is steep and rocky ; the chasm
that cleaves its sides, one long waterfall from
top to bottom, coming down from the high
moors and desolate bogs to the low-lying
valley and inhabited plain between the Benn
and Blencathra.

There in the midst of this trough runs out a
tongue of land, steep on either side : and the
tip of it rises abrupt into a tall rocky island,
precipitous all round, and approachable only
by a narrow neck that joins it to the mountain.

Across this neck great trenches had been dug
in ancient times, deep and wide, and curving
round the castle rock, like the new moon lying
about the old. So huge they are that they
remain there to this day. And if the first is
climbed there is the second; and if the second
is climbed there is the third, twice as high;
and no way to circumvent it or avoid it if one
would get up to the stronghold in the midst.
And then there is the hollow in the rock where
a few houses might be built, as the forecourt of
the castle or its outer bailey, defended on two
sides by the sheer precipice, and on the third
by the trenches : but on the fourth side rises
still higher the uttermost rock, a sheer tower
unapproachable save by a narrow path like a
ledge in the side of it, so that one only at once

135

can enter; and one man above with a good
spear could easily defend it, thrusting each new
comer over in turn, and down into the gulf
below, like sheep one by one thrust into the
pool at a sheep-washing. Then on the very
top is a plain place, a rocky platform, whence

the eye searches all that valley and views the
great vale and the roads below, and Blencathra
and Skiddaw rising beyond them, and the
mountain tops of Helvellyn above the nearer
crags, and Ullscarf over the moor. By a steep
path one could come upon the road leading
from Thirlmere out to the plain and round to
the old Roman fort at the foot of Derwentwater :
and from spying-places could be watched
everything that passed, and all that was doing
below. So that this was the safest place for
refuge, and the most dangerous to the neigh-
bourhood that could be found: a stronghold

136

seemingly impregnable before the days of
gunshot, and still among the wonders of
Lakeland.

Here it was, our story says, that Gartnaidh
kept ward on the passes with his men, and
held Thorstein in a prison from which there
was little escape. But so long as Raineach
was there, life was not bitter nor unbearable :
for she was all the world to him now.

And yet there was little to give them pleasure
in the horrible black rocks and roaring gill, and
the loneliness and deathliness of all around.
Gartnaidh came and went with his men, never
leaving the place without a guard upon the
gateway, so that none might go out or come in.
And indeed, what with wild beasts and the
terrible country round about, to say nothing of
a time of war when every kind of evil-doer is
abroad, there was little to tempt them forth, so
long as they had a roof over their heads, if it
were no better than a pighull; and a wall
between them and the world, even though it
were a prison-wall.

The summer sultriness thickened day upon
day, until Blencathra was but a film of grey,
hung like a cobweb in the sky : and the beck
began to dwindle, and its roar died into a
murmur beneath the bulwarks of the hold.
Then followed the stillness and the heaviness
that makes one weary in the hour before a
storm bursts. But if the sky was threatening
and if the air was full of dread, in their hearts
was a still greater unease while they waited

s 137

evening after evening for the news that must
by now be on its way to them, the fulfilment
of Aluinn's sight-seeing and the sooth-saying of
her mother,

One night the men came back and called for
drink; and Raineach brought them what mead
there was, and a jar of strong waters. Gart-
naidh drank and bid Thorstein out of his sight.
The lad crept into one of the ruined chambers,
low bields they were, like dog-kennels against
the wall, in the lap, so to say, of that Castle-
crag: and he lay there long, waiting for the
thunder to begin. But all he heard was the
sound of loud voices, and furious talking, and
Raineach's shrill tongue scolding, begging,
threatening; and at last a smothered scream,
as if some evil had happened. His heart went
quite cold, and he crept out to die with her.
She was there beside him, sobbing and
shuddering: but she put her hand upon his
mouth, and drew him into the chamber.

"He has beaten me," she whispered: "and
he will kill thee. He says the wolf-cub is a
burden, now the wolves are slaughtered. And
he will kill me too, if I stand in his way. He
is wild. Oh, Thorstein, listen ! he is coming! "

There were shuffling footsteps without : the
giant, drunken with strong drink, was groping
towards them in the darkness. His hand
pressed the broken thatch of the shed where
they lay, and the underside of it cracked away
and dropped on them. But he could not find
the door* After a while he growled and
138

muttered, and sank into slumber.

"Thorstein," said she, "let us away while he

sleeps. Oh save me, lad, and save thyself out

of this den!"

Then Thorstein, terrified as he was, tried to

soothe her : and in a while the quietness gave

them courage to look forth.

AWN was at hand, and things CHAPTER
began to loom through the XXV HOW
blackness of mirk night. Gart- THEY
naidh snored on where he fell; pi jrr)
but the gate-guards lay in their
places, whether sleeping or

waking the children could not know ; and none

could open the gate without stirring them.
Thorstein looked over the bulwarks and

down into the gill. Black it was down yonder ;

and even the waterfall, into which he was used

to throw stones for pastime, on the fell-side

over against them, had dwindled so that the

white of it hardly showed. Beneath him the

rock went sheer down for a space ; and under-
neath, he knew that there were tufts of heather

and saplings growing out of the scree-side that

sloped from the crag. He stole breathless to

one of the chambers where some little store of

bedding and apparel lay, and brought out a

bundle of girdlethongs and such like, and began

to tie them into a line. But they were scantly

enough to loop round a big stone, and to reach

thence to the wall edge and a very little way

overboard. He went back for an armful of

skins: but how to rip them up into thongs

139

without a knife?

Then Raineach crept up to the giant, and
loosed his sword in the sheath: and as she rattled
it, he gave a great groan : and she let go. But
he sank into sleep again, and she drew it out.
They cut the skins into strips, and knotted
their line in haste, with trembling hands, and
threw it over the wall.

Raineach sat on the edge, and clinging tight
to the line, slid down hand under hand, fending
herself off the crag with her feet, until they
touched the rough scree-slope. Down came
Thorstein, with the giant's sword thrust naked
through his girdle behind. Her heart beat lest
the line should break, or the stones come away
from the wall-coping upon them both: but at
last he stood beside her, and they stumbled
down the long slide of ruin to the gill. There
was just light enough for them to cross it
without being carried down the stream; and
they scrambled up the other side on the grassy
bank of the waterfall as steep as a hill-side can
be, all under those terrible hanging crags, in
the glimmering dawn and the thunder-mist.

Then there was a roar and a crash, and
splinters of stone flew about them. They saw
the giant's head over the bulwarks against the
sky, and his long arms whirling as he took aim
at them again. She screamed and they ran
up-bank on hands and knees while the stones
flew, and the curses and threats with them.
But they never looked behind again until they
were a good step out of the deepest of the
140

ravine, and well up towards the moor, where
the ground was not so dangerously steep ; none
the worse yet except for cutting their shins on
the scree, and tearing their faces in the black-
thorn bushes.

They stopped for breath, and a last sight of
their prison : but they stopped only a moment,
for the gate was opened and folk were running
after them in the grey mist across the tongue of
land. So they plunged into the birches and
the bogs, and crept through the underwood,
and waded through the tottermoss, startling
the hag-worms beneath and the wild fowl
above, as they beat their way up and ahead,
hoping only to be lost and out of sight.

Then they came to a high ridge, with piked
rocks standing on it, from which they could see
that their homeward course was plain, over a
great swamp and a bleak tarn, and along the
green mountains beyond it. But from their
rock they could trace the giant not so far
behind, making his way through the wood,
which was harder for him to force than for the
lithe light bodies that could slip between its
boughs, and over its half-dried, cracking mire-
holes in which his bulk and weight stuck and
sank continually. And yet he went at it with
main strength, swinging his club and hewing a
passage.

Down from their peak they flitted, and up he
came from the other side, shadowy against the
lurid sunrise. With a shout he strode over the
edge, taking great steps against the sky, while

141

they were lost in the maze of oozy rills, too
broad for them to jump, and too deep and too
treacherous to wade. While they looked wildly
for their crossings, he leapt the ditches and
gained on them, until at last he whirled his
club round his head, and it flew hurtling
through the air. They fell flat in the mire, and
it skimmed close over them. Then they
struggled to their feet and ran neck and neck
for Blea tarn. Thorstein plunged in, dragging
her after him, and struck out for the other side,
sorely weighed down by her head on his
shoulder, and well nigh choked by her grip
round his neck; for 'she was no swimmer, and
gasped and struggled in the black water. He
landed her, though, upon a shoal, and up the
bank they fled, on firmer ground now, and with
a clear way before them and treeless, over
stones and grass, forward and upward to
Ullscarf.

But a terrible roar came up from the tarn ;
and they looked back, and saw the giant near
the middle of it, fighting with the black water,
and lashing it into foaming waves that circled
and spread until all the mere was in a turmoil.
And then his head went under: but he rose
again, flapping and battling like a wounded
heron. Then he sank again, and once more
came to the surface, drifting like a log in an
eddy. And then the water closed over him,
black and calm, and the pattern of the mountain
tops began to take shape where he had been.
The children stood fixed to the spot. A stream
142

of bubbles rose, and burst ; and the reflections
joined again. Raineach turned suddenly on
Thorstein and dealt him a blow that felled him
to the ground: she burst into a passion of
weeping, as she flung herself beside him.
"Thou hast killed my father," she wailed: "I
hate thee, I hate thee!"

Thorstein was in no mood to say good or
bad to her, so utterly weary was he : least of
all to make love-speeches. He lay awhile, and
the tarn-water ran from him upon the grass.

"Listen, Raineach," he said at last: "I hear
the shouts of the men that follow us afar."

"O lad," she cried, "dear lad, take me with
thee."

So they climbed the ridge, and held by it on
the farther side, hidden from their pursuers,
and saw them no more.

But now the day had broken, a dismal day
of thunder mist and gathering storm. The
highest tops were lost, not in their homely
cloud-caps, but fading away into black vapour;
and through the rents in it the sun shot beams
of coppery and swarthy sheen, down into the
smoky dells and tumbling precipices, that
seemed to ditch their moorland road on either
hand. The long rise and fall of Ullscarf before
them looked like a vast bridge in the air, and
leading nowhither but into darkness. Far to
the right, gaps in the gloom showed awful
edges of mountain, rolling and plunging along
the skyline, as wheels that moved, great
toppling balls advancing slowly over hill and

dale, wayward and unescapable. Nigher at
hand were huge monsters, mis-shapen and grey
and foul to see; many-headed things, with eyes
and crests and spiny backs, crouching along
the naked ground, among white and bleaching
bones in the black soil. And when the children
came nearer, hoping to slip by, for there was
no other way, these things became great
boulders, as it might be images of unknown
dragons of dreamland, or they were weird
tussocks of grass on black and embattled
towers and pinnacles of crumbling peat, that
took the shape of laidly worms and all the
terrors of winter-night tales.

They won their way over the bridge in air,
down through the silky green mosses and
heatherless moor-grasses, to Greenup raise:
for they dared not try the valleys on either
hand in fear of losing the only way they knew,
the safe and solitary ridge that must bring
them southward and homeward. But the
darkness deepened, and then came a flash and
an instant crack and roar that sent them
speeding upward in panic. Then the storm
began, flash upon flash of blue light, terrifying
and bewildering, as they scudded through the
din and rattle of hail, blindly seeking shelter :
and dashed into a nook of white shattered
rocks, an island on the great heaving billow of
moor. As they crushed themselves into the
bield, some ugly beast with a snarl and white
teeth pushed out, and fled past them into the
storm. And there they cruddled, in shelter at
144

last: and such was their weariness and the
heaviness of the air, that they knew no more
until they awoke wondering.

For the sky was violet-blue above them, and
the sun was going down among torn flitters of
cloud-wreck. All around, the mountains were
hard-edged and dark purple, with streaks and
stripes and slashes of dim white from the hail
and sudden cold. The children crept out,
shivering and tottering.

"Oh, Thorstein," sobbed the lass, "I can go
no farther: let us lie down and die here."

But he comforted her, and bade her lean on
him, and led her up the moor, slowly and
painfully toiling, until step by step they gained
a rocky pike among white tables of stone and
strange pillars and domes and curving hollows,
like the icebergs they tell of in the far northern
seas. And looking homeward in the twilight
from that tower, they saw a deep dark valley
below, and weary fells on the other side, and
dells and mountain moors. But beyond, far
beyond, a gleam of water and a rising shadow
of mountain beside it, that wiped off the stars
from the southern sky. Aye, and Thorstein
greeted as he held the poor lass up to look at
the strip of light in the distance. " It is my
mere, it is our own mere, Raineach. I know
it!"

How they came down Langdale side in the
darkness they could never tell. From ledge to
ledge, among the hammers and knots of rock,
clambering and groping for foothold and hand-

T 145

hold, sliding sometimes down the screes and
losing one another in the deep fern : but still
descending, even when they were swept down
the mazes of the black gills and the torrent
beds roaring from the rain-storm : lightheaded
with hunger, and reckless from fatigue, they
reached the valley.

Guided by a red spot of firelight they came
upon the huts of the poor folk who had
harboured them on their outward journey: and
there they found food and a respite from their
travelling ; and made a ready tale how the men
had gone to the war and sent them home. For if
they had let it be known that Gartnaidh was
dead, it was odds but the fell-folk would have
been rough and mishandled them. But for pity's
sake they were good, and made them welcome,
and wondered how they had come through the
storm unscathed. They housed them, and fed
them, as long as they would bide, and then set
them a good step on their way, until they
struck the path over Hawkshead moor and
down Rusland pool to the Leven.

As they came within sight of Leven firth and
the well known hills, wooded softly and
winsome after the horrible ruggedness of the
mountains, Thorstein laughed and sang and
shouted for joy, and stepped briskly forward.
"Come along, lass," he cried, "come along
with thee! Yonder is Legbarrow, and the
sands of Leven : a bit more and we shall see
Greenodd. Home, lass, home! Step out.
Why, what ails thee, silly? "
146

"Oh, Thorstein, I dare not. My heart is

like water within me, and my head works

sore."

" Aye, poor thing, little tired thing. I'll

help thee along. See: yonder is our howe:

and the smoke from Greenodd. See the bonny

fields and flocks in them ; and ah ! they have

built a new cottage by the ford, and sown a bit

of the intake on the fell. There's Greenodd,

Raineach : there it is ; our own house ! "

"Nay, Thorstein, I can go no farther. My

feet are broken, and my knees are trembling.

Oh let me be, and leave me."

"Why, lass, it is but a step. Well, then:

well, then: bide here if thou must, and look

for me back in a hop, skip and jump to lait

thee."

She saw him trip off with no more farewell;

and then she dragged herself up into a wild

apple tree, and it began to grow dark: and she

waited for him, sick at heart. Then the night

fell, and still she waited for him.

RAND doings were at CHAPTER
'Greenodd house. There was XXVI. THE
}a table set out before the door ARVALE
'and drinking horns upon it, FOR SWEIN
( and a vat of ale in the porch. BIORNSON.
'Rosy-cheeked lasses, in their

feast-day kirtles and kerchiefs, served all

comers by way of a welcome and a foretaste of

the supper. For this day was the Arvale made

for Swein Biornson who had fallen at the

battle of Brunanburg.

147

It was their custom to bid to the funeral
feast all their neighbours and friends, not only
that they might do honour to the dead, but
also that they might bear witness to the
incoming of his heirs according to law and the
wonted order of kinship. This they called
Arv-ale, which is as much as to say Inheritance-
ale : as they said Bride-ale for the wedding-feast.
And still in these parts the name is given to
cakes they make at funerals, which they call
Arval-cakes.

Now when Thorstein came up to the door,
guests were in the act of arriving: namely a
good neighbour whom he knew for Master
Asmund, whose land was Asmundar-lea, away
over the back fell : he had come now and then
to feasts and meetings at Greenodd and the
Legbarrow. He was finely dressed in a new
kirtle and hose of the best homespun : he wore
a broad felt hat, and leather riding-boots with
bright spurs to them : and when he lit down
from his horse, he stood in the porch with a
seasonable sadness, and drank his ale to the
good luck of the house, and hemmed, and
sighed, and wiped his beard, and walked in.

With him was a bright little slip of a lass,
who must be his daughter, for one could see
that her nag was well groomed and well fed :
and though she was covered from head to foot
with a great hooded riding-cloak of dark blue
and somewhat splashed with mud, such a
merry grey eye looked out from the hood and
such a dainty foot stood in Thorstein 's hand as

he helped her from the saddle, for he
happened to be the nighest, that there was
no doubt of it, who she was. She just put the
horn to her lips, cast her eye round with a
little grimace, and mimicking the grave gait of
her father, stepped in after him.

Thorstein looked at the servant-lasses, but
they were strange to him. He saw that a feast
was forward, and guessed well enough the
reason why : for the fell-folk had already heard
tidings of a great defeat, and he knew his
father had passed him, that night of evil luck,
on the way to the battle. He could put two
and two together now. And as he stood in
the porch, glad to be home again, it came
over him suddenly that this was no more his
father's house, and that his three-years'-long
desire was unfulfilled after all: and the tears
came into his eyes.

Just then stood forth a couple of finely dressed
young men, returned to the porch after
bestowing neighbour Asmund and his daughter
within.

"Now, my good fellow," said Orm roughly,
" no loitering here with the lasses and the ale.
The thrall's quarters are yonder."

"Hold hard," said Hundi. "This is none
of Asmund's folk. He is more like a wild lad
from the fells, with his long naked sword. Nay
now, he is a queer one. What is thine errand,
friend?"

Thorstein said nothing. Words failed him.
To think his own brothers knew him no more !

149

But just then the mother carne out, wet-eyed,
but bustling over her guests, and anxious that
all should be rightly seen to. Nay, never ask
if she mistook him, or bade him begone.

Well, the guests had come and the supper
was ready. The hall was hung with its finest
tapestries, and the floor new strewn with fern.
After a fashion that was sometimes followed
then-a-days, men and women were paired off
to eat together. Unna sat in her own high-seat,
with Asmund as honoured guest beside her.
On her left hand was Raud her brother, who
had taken land just across the water at
Roudsey. One place was empty, the high-seat
of the master of the house : but in all others
men and women sat according to their rank,
for the women's thwart-bench was not yet
come into fashion, but if for weddings. As it
fell out, Thorstein was given for his partner the
young lass Asmund's daughter, Asdis by name.
Folk nodded and patted the table with hard
ringers when they two sat down, as if to say
st Welcome back ! " and as though they would
add, "Well matched, lad and lass!" For
Asdis came out of her cloak like a butterfly
from its shell ; and Thorstein, when his mother
had bathed him and trimmed his hair and
dressed him and little else she did before
supper-time from the moment she set eyes on
him why then he was quite another lad, and
they all said as much. Hundi was quite
friendly, and Orm was civil enough ; though he
whispered to Hundi "Why couldn't the fellow
150

have come to-morrow?"

"Eh?" said Hundi, bluntly. "Why to-
morrow?"

"Only that half is more than a third,
thickhead."

Then Hundi went over to Thorstein and
kissed him, and gave him a good slap on the
back, saying "How about that whale, lad ? " At
which they all laughed, for they knew the story
well : but sobered themselves of a sudden and
fell to business, namely their supper. Asdis,
the roguish lass, ate off Thorstein's plate and
drank out of his cup, for at feasts when guests
outnumbered the household goods, that was
their way. And between the mouthfuls she
chattered in a low voice, for it was not
seemly to speak loud at a feast for the dead.

"So, neighbour Thorstein Sweinson, ye've
been seeing the world?"

"Aye."

"And maybe you've set eyes on a deal of
grand folk, kings and queens and such like?

"Aye."

"You don't say so. Hark to him. Happen
you've been faring to Micklegarth, and
aboon?"

"Nay."

"What then? Not over seas? Well, may-
be over the fells and far away ? "

"Aye."

"And clean forgotten thy mother tongue; or
more like grown a peacock, that has never a
word for such as us? "

"Nay."

"I thought as much. Tell me, neighbour,
didst thou see a ragged lad in the porch this
afternoon ? "

"Nay."

"Good. Then I'll tell thee. He was a
scarecrow, he was. Who'd have thought of a
prince in disguise ? "

And so she went on teasing and bantering
him, while he could not but spy at her round
the corners of his eyes, so pretty she was in
her low-cut kirtle and gold necklace on a white
smooth neck, with the locks of her unbraided
yellow hair brushing his sleeve, and the dimples
in her little soft knuckles coming and going, as
she handled and turned the cup before him.
She was so dainty that he was fairly abashed,
and never knew how to answer her, and hardly
dared touch the trencher with his rough paws.
There she was laughing softly, and joking in a
whisper, with her apple-blossom chin over his
shoulder; and folk staring at him too, till he
was fit to sink under the table. Then he drank
up all the ale, and held out the cup for more,
and drank that : and then he felt more blate
than ever, and sat stock still, for fear he should
do something foolish. For ale-drinking was
strange to him ; he got little stronger than milk
on the fell, at the best of times.

When they had eaten, healths were drunk;

a cup to Thor, and a cup to each of the gods.

At each health they all rapped the tables and

shouted. Then one stood up and hemmed and

152

coughed, it was Master Asmund their neigh-
bour; and he spoke in a loud sing-song voice:

"Friends all, and neighbours, here we are
met together under this kindly roof-tree on a
joyful errand nay, what say I ? Joyful is the
day that brings the wanderer to his home "
(at which they shouted " Hear him, welcome
Thorstein Sweinson ! ") ' ' And joyful it is to find
a hearty welcome from our worthy hostess,
even in the midst of her great sorrow" ("Well
said," they cried all.) " And right and meet it
is to come together to cheer the widow and
the orphan, and to speak a word of praise for
him that is gone." ("Speak on!" they cried.)
" Aye, friends and neighbours, he was a good
man, was Swein Biornson. When I bethink
me of the days he used to come home, ten and
twelve winters it is and more, from summer-
leading, before ever this new order of things
began, when there was none of the nonsense
that's talked nowadays about folk-right and
king's law and the like : I say when I bethink
me of our good neighbour that was, and him
coming home by harvest.time as regular as the
swallows in spring, with a shipload of fine
wares that had cost him many a hard knock in
the gathering, and many a long cruise on
strange coasts, and through stormy seas : I can
see him once again in his seat over yonder, at
the feast he used to give for his home-coming
and the harvest of the sea, and well I mind his
hearty voice; 'Take thy time, neighbour;
make thy choice,' he would say: for he had a

u 153

gift in the heap for every guest, and a good
word with it. And when I look round on the
land he stubbed, bonny corn-riggs and lea land
it is now, and few of ye can call to mind as well
as I the rough spot this used to be, before ever
he set to work upon it : when I come over the
fell and look down on this fine house he raised,
fit up it is with every comfort, and nothing
awanting to suit his lady, highborn as she may
be, what with householding gear and servants
out-doors and in, dairy fit for a king's daughter
and byres of the best, and all the stock so well
managed, for there's a deal more in managing,
mind you, than some folk allow, that are
always blaming their luck for every beast they
lose, and every load of hay that they let rot in
the rain : I say he was a grand man, and long
will it be or we see the like of him again. It is
not his friends only that say so, mind you:
they tell me the very king of England himself
offered our neighbour to make him a thane,
and set him over the country-side to take
scat of the folk: but 'Nay,' says Swein
Biornson as proud as a prince, * Nor thane of
thine nor thrall of thine will I be,' says he to
the king. ' I am a free statesman, and a good
neighbour to all,' said he: 'and ye kings
may lait your tools otherwheres.' That was
a grand speech, friends : and many's the grand
word we have had from him over yonder
at our meetings, and many a time folk have
been ruled by his rede. For look you, friends,
there was never a man of us but kenned right
154

well that Swein Biornson spoke his mind, and
every word came out of a good heart, and
honest; though maybe we could not all of us
go as far as he did, in some matters. And
now," said Asmund, bringing his speech to end,
" He is gone, and we shall see him no more.
Over the fells in the great battle-play, hewing
down his foes as a lad haggs weeds with his
wand, leaping through the spears of the English
and shouting to the cowards who dared not
follow him : the kemp and captain of the little
band that backed him, until the Saxons faltered
and fled, so they tell the tale that saw it. Aye,
and if Owain and Constantine and Olaf the
Dane had but found a handful such as he, there
would have been another tale to tell of the
doings at Brunanburg. But it pleased the
Allfather to send for him, and take him to
himself. Right glad we should have been to
have laid our neighbour in his own howe, to
overlook the lands he has won and the house
he has planted ; but afar on the Winheath he
lies, and Odin has spared him the sorrow of a
straw-death. Let us be glad, friends, and
rejoice for him : for the deeds he has done in
his life, and for the glory he has gathered in his
death. Drink with me this cup to him : drink
to Swein Biornson."

Standing up, they drank in silence : and in
silence they sat down again. Then Orm
Sweinson, as being the eldest son of his father,
stood in his place to drink the Bragi-cup. It
was their custom at Arvales to leave the dead

155

man's high-seat empty until his health had
been drunk, and honoured with some fitting
speech or vow made by him who should be the
chief heir to the name of the dead: and not
until then might he sit in the empty high-seat,
and by that token take the rule over the house
of his father.

So Orm's cup was filled, and he rose and
came into the middle of the hall, and stood
with one foot on the stone curb of the hearth.
"I drink," he cried aloud, "this cup to Bragi;
and I vow hereby to do vengeance for the dead,
and justice to the living." Then they cried
out that he had vowed well ; could say no less
and need say no more : and they made room
for him to take his place upon his father's seat,
as master of the house thenceforward.

Then far into the night they sat to drink,
and each man told his tale of him that was
gone, or sang a song in honour of him. But
long before they were done with their feast,
Thorstein's eyes were closed, for he was heavy
with travelling, and with the joy and sorrow of
home-coming, and maybe also with the strong
ale he had drunk. So he slept where he sat,
long after Asdis, pouting and vexed, had gone
off to her chamber with the rest of the women -
kind.

Thus ended the first day of the Arvale for
Swein Biornson. And all the while, in the
dark night, Raineach clung to the branches of
the wild apple tree by Crakeford, weary and
hungry and sick at heart, and listening for

156

Thorstein. And when she slept for very
weariness, she dreamed that he was dragging
her among proud strangers who scorned her:
and then that he was saying "Off, off, ugly
paddock." And she awoke weeping, and
listened for him, in the patter of the rain upon
the drenched leaves in the dawning.

ORNING came and they were CHAPTER
stirring. Thorstein found it XXVII.
hard to awake; but as he SWEIN
rubbed his eyes and shook BIORNSON'S
himself, there carne over him HEIRS.
the thought of Raineach and
how he had left her: and he was bitterly
ashamed. He ran to his mother, and
" Mother," said he, " I have been both knave
and fool."

"What now, barn?" said she.
" Mother," said he, " I had a gold ring in my
hand, and I dropped it in the ale vat."

"Never heed it, barn" said she: "thou wilt
have gold rings enough, and that thou wilt see
before to-day is done. And thy old one will
land up when the ale is drunk."

" Mother," he said, "there was a young lass
with me as I came along the road : and I left
her hard by Crakeford ; for she was weary, she
said, and would come no farther. "

"A lass, barn? What, thou art young to lead
lasses up and down. But lads will be men
nowadays, no sooner than they are out of
swaddling clothes. And what sort of a lass
may she be? "

157

" She's a good lass, mother, and a kind one
to me: and I'd liefer by far lose ring or ring-
finger."

"What then, lad? I'll say nay to nothing,
now I have thee home: but be guided. Here
we are all throng as throng can be, and
folk to break their fast: and men-folk are
aye fractious on the morrow of a feast until
they be served. And there's the settlement to
follow, and a gey work it will be to get through
unless Orm be more reasonable than I fear.
Let me send one of our men to lait thy lass,
and bestow her in one of the thrall's cots until
we get these guests off our hands: or if thy
mind is to fetch her here upon us all, maybe
Asdis Asmund's daughter will give her a share
of her bed. That's a bonny lass, Thorstein."

"Nay, mother," answered he, stuttering, " I
doubt Asdis will give us no thanks for thrusting
a stranger upon her: and Raineach "

"What?" said his mother: "is it an Irish
woman?"

"Never mind what, mother, now: but I say
she will be better suited elsewhere than here,
until this turmoil is over, and then."

The first thing was their breakfast, which
was a great meal with the North-folk then-a-
days, and the set-out was well nigh as big as at
supper time. Next thing was the settlement,
and division of the dead man's goods ; to be
done before the neighbours, fair and square
and above-board : for in those days they had
no lawyers and writings and such-like, either

158

for the making of laws or for the con ve)- ing of
property, and all was done by word of mouth
and deed of hand in the presence of witnesses,
whose testimony was the only token of the
continuance of a custom or the assurance of
ownership.

After question asked and answered about
debts the dead man might owe, and after
sundry to whom he had lent money or goods
had repaid them in bags of silver or ells of cloth
they came to the division of the estate. It was
their use for the widow to take one part in
three, both of the land and goods. After some
talk, they climbed the howe and parcelled out
the whole landtake of Swein Biornson, both
wild-wood and cleared land : and coming down
from the howe they all walked over the grounds
as they had measured them out from above,
beating the boundaries, and planting staves
or stones from point to point along. And this
side of the line, upbank towards Greenodd, was
to be Unna's, and the other side was to be for
the rest of the heirs.

Of furniture and movable things, ornaments
and apparel and household gear, they carried
out a third part and stood them in a heap in
one of the sheds, until it should be settled
where Unna would bestow herself and her
goods. Then she chose out her third part of
the thralls, both men and maids, and set them
aside. And by that time the morning was
spent, and the mid-day drinking was served to
them in the disordered garth. But to the

younger folk all this was a holiday-making, and
it was merriment to see arks opened and goods
shifted, and the thralls set out in a line and
chosen: and to hear the maids say "Oh
mistress, take me!" and to one and another
the mistress replying "Nay, lass; I know thee
too well."

So then they talked about what should be
done as between the three lads ; until one said,
" It has been done before, neighbours, and it
is often a good custom, for the first-born to get
house and land, and for the younger to take the
movable goods. Now here we have three lads:
and if we set all that remains in three shares,
namely house and land and farming-stock to
one share : and the ship and all that belongs to
it, boats and boat-sheds, tools and tackle and
such-like, to another share: and lastly if we
reckon up silver and gold, apparel and furniture
and such chattels to the third share: then I
say we shall not be far from a fair parting of
the estate. And I say that if Orm Sweinson
takes the house and farm, he will do well : and
if Hundi takes the ship and goes abroad, he is
like to thrive : and if Thorstein the child gets
the money and movables, he will be well set
up."

At this Orm boggled somewhat, for said he,
"An empty house is cold cheer." But Thor-
stein answered, "Why, brother, we can mend
that. Give me and my goods house-room, and
I will give thee the help of me and mine."
And so said Unn, for she was loath to leave the
160

old spot, and Orm knew right well what a
manager she was. And so they settled it,
without more ado, and went down to the field
for a game of wrestling.

There they played until supper time, and
Thorstein acquitted himself right well, though
he was hardly fifteen years of age and far from
full grown. But his life on the fells had
hardened him, so that Hundi Snail, as they
called him because he was easy and fat, went
down under the youngster : and even Orm was
thrown twice out of thrice; at which he was
vexed, though he said little. So to set matters
right Unna bade them in to supper: and as
they went up to supper said Asmund to
Thorstein, "A word with thee, my lad."

"Say on, master," says he.

"Look you now," says Asmund. "Thou
hast been these three winters away, and no
doubt we shall hear of thy doings. But one
thing I see, and that is, thou hast not lost thy
time."

" Thank you kindly," says Thorstein.

"But," says Asmund, "take a word from one
who knows. It is not all of us who have the
trick, like thy poor father, of being soft to
friends and sour only to foes : and even betwixt
brothers things do not always fall as one would.
Now, was it quite wise in thee to throw thy
brother Orm, think'st thou, those two times?
Was not once enough ? "

"What!" said he, "I threw him fair."

" Ha ! ha ! " laughed Asmund. " Fair is foul

161

in such matters. Riddle me that, lad. But
when thou comest to know Orm a bit better,
from serving him a month or two "

" Serving him ? " cries Thorstein.

"Well, what else? since he is master of the
house, and a masterful man at any time. But
when thou hast need of a friend and a friendly
roof over thy head, take thy money-bags, if
aught be left in them, and hie thy ways over to
Asmundarlea. Say no more, my lad, but bear
it in mind.'*

So they went to supper, and Asdis sat again
by Thorstein, daintier than ever, and not a bit
put out with him : and he was a deal more at
his ease. And while men drank after supper,
said she, " Bonny things, master wrestler, I
spied among thy goods : and a lucky lad is the
getter of them."

" Aye," said he, " they are fine enough, I
suppose."

" Would it be asking over much to have a
sight of them once again before we go ? There's
a stitch in some of thy hangings I would be
glad to learn."

So he brought an armful and cleared the
table where they sat, and she fingered the em-
broideries and praised them, and praised him,
until he had given her a good half of them in
spite of her nays.

" What," she said at last, " I'll see no more
if everything I touch is to be given me. But
in one of thy kists, I saw a fine draught-board.
Shall we have a game ? "
162

CHAPTER
XXVIII.
WHITE
ROSE AND
RED.

" I doubt," said he, " I have forgotten how
to play."

" Oh," said she, clapping her hands, " then
I'll teach thee, master mountain bear: and that
will be fun, for it's dull for us poor lasses if you
men do nought but drink till bedtime and
aboon."

So he found the draught-board and the
carved knaves, and they played fox and geese
until he learned something of the trick of it.
Then she said, " Nay, thou art fairly my
master. I'll teach no more. Let us play
rightly as folk do, and stake a trifle on a game
or two."

Well, the end was she won a good bit more
of Thorstein's fineries, and carried a great
heap off to bed with her. And if she was
pleased, so was he, at finding any way to
please so pretty and dainty a creature.

IOW the third day of the feast
had come, when the guests
bethought them of going their
[ways homewards. Thorstein
went out with Asdis to catch
|her nag for her, and to set her
on the way with Asmund and his men. But
when they got up to the fell-pasture where the
horses were, thralls were cutting wood from
the stubs in the coppice hard by. And just
as Thorstein was laying hold of the nag, what
should he see but a poor, thin, gaunt figure
in rags, among the wood-cutters, carrying a
huge load of sticks, and the red hair hanging
164

down unkempt over her face. One of the
men, in rough horseplay, as rude rascals do
with a strange new fellow-servant, put out his
foot, and let her trip over it, and tumble with
the load and all. Then another went up to
her and cursed her for a fool and gave her a
kick. Thorstein flew at them, and it was
right for one and left for t'other, and down
they went, heels over head, one with a broken
jaw and one with bloody nose. Thorstein
picked up the lass, and would have kissed her,
but she fought herself loose and struggled
away.

" Raineach ! " he cried ; " Raineach ! "

She turned and looked at him in his finery.
Then she looked at Asdis who had come up,
staring. Then she looked down at her tatters,
and black, bare feet and fingers.

Asdis put her hand on Thorstein's shoulder.
" Eh, what breaks ! " she giggled, and then
burst into shrieks of laughter. Thorstein
shook off her hand, and darted after the ragged
lass, who fled through the wood.

"Oh, Raineach!" he cried after her in her
own language, " Raineach my darling ! forgive
me, forgive me ! Listen to me : only hear me !
Stay, Raineach, only stay, and hear me ! "

Poor little thing, she was too weak and ill
to run far : and stopped at bay under a ridge
of rock in the wood. But still she kept him
off with her hands, while she wept and laughed
and wept again.

Thorstein grovelled on the moss before her,

165

and poured out his heartful of passionate
words : blaming himself for knave and fool :
and excusing himself by telling her what had
passed, and how his mother had promised to
have her well bestowed in a thrall's cot, out of
the way of the stoore of the guests : and how
he could not come nigh her till they were
gone : and over and over again he said it, till
he had no more to say. At last he lay quite
still, sobbing bitterly.

"What's all this?" shouted a rough voice
through the wood. It was Orm. " Look
here, young fellow, don't go knocking my
thralls about: I'll thank you to learn manners,
if you mean to stay. And who is this ugly
goblin, I'd like to know ? "

Thorstein was on his feet in a moment, and
Raineach in his arms as if they had never
parted.

" She's my sister, kinsman : the child of my
foster-father. And I give thee to know, that
there's not a lass in the land to match her."

" One would think the giant had fostered
thee, barn," said Orm, using the old byword,
and laughing scornfully.

" Then beware of the giant's fosterling."

" Well, come and show thy mother what a
prize thou hast got."

"Aye, that I will, and all the world,"
answered Thorstein, as she nestled to him,
and clung to him, sobbing no more, but tall
and straight and proud, in her rags and dirt.

And then he led her to Greenodd house,
166

whence all the guests had gone away : and
speaking in her tongue, told his mother who
she was. And his mother answered him, and
spoke to her words that she could hear, and
that made her weep for gladness. And when
she was washed and fed, and dressed in
clothes from Thorstein's own store, simple
things that Asdis had not cared to take, she
sat by the fire while Thorstein told them, far
into the night, the story of his wanderings
and of her kindness to him.

As the story went on, Unna drew nearer to
her the child, that wondered, and understood
nought of the tale but what she guessed from
their glances : until her head was on the good
mother's lap, and from her eyes, half shut, the
tears crept out, and through the great red
mane, upon the kind hands that petted her.

When Thorstein had done, Hundi kissed
him, and Orm came over out of the high-seat
he was proud to keep, and held out his
hand. " Kinsman," he said " let bygones be
bygones."

"Why," said Thorstein, holding his brother's
hand : " What is there to forgive ? "

But Unna said, in the soft Erse tongue that
came back to her like a dream of childhood,
" Many a time have I prayed, whiles to the
Allfather, and whiles to the White Christ, for
a little lass, though I dared tell no soul else of
the folly. And he has heard me, whoever it is
hears poor folk's prayers. He has taken my
man to himself, and he has sent me this bonny
maid." 167

CHAPTER

XXIX.

RAINEACH

AT

GREENODD.

house-cats

T was not all plain sailing,
though the start was fair.
They tell how, once upon a
time, a lad brought home a
wild kitling from the woods,
and nursed it up among the
the hearth. So it was at
Greenodd with Raineach.

With the best will in the world, she found
it hard to learn their ways, and quite beyond
her to follow them. At first there was the
labour of a new speech to get. Thorstein
had picked up her talk with ease: but she
could never frame her lips to the strange
sounds, nor force her thoughts into the words
of the Northfolk. She would be eager to
chatter, and brimful of news, or wonderment,
or recollection, or explanation : helping herself
out with gestures, and the forcefulness of her
native manner, unlike the slow steadiness of
the Northern delivery, and strange to them
and disquieting. And in the midst of it all, a
word wrongly spoken, and drolly misinter-
preting her meaning, would set them all
roaring with laughter. At which she would
be vexed and sulk : for her people were
grave and staid, though forceful and rapid in
speech and gesture : while the Northmen, slow
of speech and drawling, were ready with rough
jokes and childish fooling. So she took their
laughter in bad part : and they took her
glumping for the sign of a bad heart : and
Thorstein had work enough to come between
168

them all.

And then she could never learn the deft
neatness of their household ways, their cleanli-
ness in kitchen and diary, and tidiness of
table and chamber, and handy management of
needle and shuttle and rock. If there were
doubt in their counsels, mishap with beasts or
men, or any grave trouble befalling, who but
Raineach was run to for help : for she kept
her head, while the other women-folk were
shrieking and scurrying ; and she was dry-eyed
while they were weeping ; or sober while they
giggled like fools. But even for that they
thought worse of her, as one who had not the
feelings of other folk, and never laughed nor
greeted when she ought, nor was shocked like
a decent lass, nor disgusted like a dainty one.

And that bush of red hair was never dressed
for long ; and her kirtle was torn, and cobbled
up coarsely ; and her kerchief awry ; and her
work fouled with losing, and leaving in corners,
and crumpling in hasty forgetfulness. And if
sometimes she was the pride of them all, for
her tall, slim strength, and her bright bonny
face with the proud high-set cheek and brent
brow, and with the earnest friendliness that
shone in her eyes ; at other whiles she was
dismal, and the light faded out of her, and she
was no better than a draggle-tailed slut, they
said. And then nothing healed her but a
run with Thorstein on the fell, and unmaidenly
scraffling among the beasts, or rough pulling
and hauling at the boat-sheds with Hundi and

w 169

the ship-wrights. Unna would often say over
to herself how much she owed the lass for
Thorstein's sake, and how much she might do
for the lass to bring her into shape : and so
schooled herself to be good to her : but it was
not always easy to keep back a sharp word;
and a sharp word spoiled everything.

Thorstein too was a puzzle to them. Every
indoor business he shirked, and cared only for
herding and boating and the rough work of
the farm. He had been so long on the fells
that quiet life came amiss to him : and often
by the fireside at nights, as that winter wore,
he would fidget and worry until he found a
call for turning out, so that even the shepherds
bade him leave them in peace to look after
their own job. Then he took to hunting : and
they owned he was a famous hunter. He
would fish in the firth, day and night and all
weathers, as if he had a bear's warmth in him.
They were glad of the fish he brought home :
but it was irksome to have him bring in his
dripping self along with it, to reek and simmer
by the hearth, when all was redd up and snug
for the evening. " Folk must do as folk do,"
said they behind his back: but when they
said it to his face he looked ugly, and Unna
dreaded a fight with Orm one of those days.

So the nights wore on to Yule: and then
came a messenger from over the fell to bid
the Greenodd folk to Asmundarlea for the
feast-tide: and "Over and above that," said
he, " my mistress Asdis bade thee in especial,
170

Thorstein Sweinson, and charged thee to
bring the young may, for she would fain know
her, and make a sister of her."

When Raineach understood that this was
the lass that had laughed at her, on that
dreadful day which nobody ever named, she
said flatly that she would not go. But Unna
begged hard, and told her that the lass was
good at heart, and meant all kindly, and that
it would be a feather in her cap to win such
a friend. So Raineach dared say no more,
though she loathed the journey.

But Thorstein found her some right bonny
fairings and tricked her out as never was : and
Raineach was child enough to be proud of her
attire, and said in her heart she would be a
match for them all. And they took her on a
nag like any lady, and rode over the fell, and
were received heartily ; and all went well at
first.

Asdis was a handsome lass in her way : less
tall and strong than Raineach, but far more
snod and neat and womanlike. Raineach at
her best was a wild-wood goddess, and at her
worst she was a grey-faced tatterling again :
but Asdis was always the same, blithe and
bonny, well set up and well seen to. So that
one would have thought there need be no
strife between them.

But the very next day Asdis was at her
tricks : and every one but Thorstein aided
and abetted her in showing off poor Raineach
in little things, that bit and stung like midges

171

on a wet mid-summer eve. She would flatter
till Raineach was led into simpering, and
then they chuckled: she would ask her advice
about tapestry stiches, and Raineach, seeing
no malice, would give grave counsels that a
body might see were nought : she would mock
her gait and manner of eating, and entice her
to say the words she always said wrong ; and
folk would laugh ; and even Thorstein laughed
as one who couldn't help it. Then Asdis cast
a sheep's eye at him, and as it were claimed
him for her friend and ally, and Raineach was
furious, and paled, and blushed, and wept, and
sulked. Asdis did it all so cleverly, and was
so pretty and innocent over it, that even
Thorstein would take her part and bid Rain-
each not be a fool. She promised to amend,
and was bitterly ashamed, and' tried again :
and so it went on until they were all glad to
part and get home again. And Master Asmund
at the farewell clapped Thorstein on the back
and said " Well, lad, we'll not forget, and
we look to see thee when thou art tired of
Greenodd and all thy folk." And so the lad
was set up with himself, and vexed with
Raineach, thinking that she had spoiled their
sport, and was after all no better than a
pettish child.

One day when Yule was well over, his
mother called him aside and " Lad," she said,
" I doubt I am wearying of these doings. It's
not that I don't love the lass from my heart,
and there's nothing I would not do for her.
172

But its dreigh work putting up with her
whimsies, and setting things to right after
her. Never a stitch she sets, but I have to
unpick it : never a pat of butter she turns,
but I have to wash it : what, and she was
stirring the cream this very day with a horn
spoon when the rowan thival was there at
hand. And she slaps the servant lasses if
they so much as smile, and she has words
with the men, aye, even with Orm himself.
Why, he said to me this very day, Mother,
said he, tell that young spitfire that I'll have
no more of her sauce; let her know who is
master here, said he."

" Well, mother," said Thorstein, ' Raineach
is a good lass, and means well."

" Nay, never doubt it," said his mother.
" But she does ill, and sets us all by the ears.
It's grieved I am to say it, but I would be
thankful if one she would hearken to gave her
a word and got her to amend."

" You are hard on her, mother. You all
said you'd take her for one of us, and make
her at home. And its nothing but tease and
worry, till the poor child never knows whether
she's on her head or her heels."

" Nay, Thorstein : that's not a fair word to
the mother that bore thee. Who brought her
here ? Who fetched the wild cat into the
house ? "

Then he was angry, and she was angry, and
they had high words, and parted with little
peace between them.

He went out to look for Raineach, and
" Lass," he said, " what hast thou done to
set them all against thee ? "

"I?" said she. "Peace for shame, Thor-
stein!"

"Nay," he answered, moodily. "It's truth.
Here's mother can stand it no more, and Orm
fit to turn us out of the house."

"Well then, I'll go for one. Thou canst
stay if thou wilt."

" Raineach," he said, " hear reason."

" Little reason in you folk," she answered.
"And thou, Thorstein, once I thought ."
But she burst into weeping, and fled away.

Thorstein turned in again, angry with her,
and more angry with his folk, and angry most
of all with himself. As he sat and thought it
out it seemed to him that this would blow over
like other storms, and that Raineach would
surely come back to supper. But supper-time
came, and no Raineach.

" What's to do with the lass ? " said Unn.
" Well, hungry folk can't wait, and I'll keep a
bite against she comes."

" Nay," said Orm, " sulky dogs go supper-
less."

But Thorstein was uneasy, for he had never
before parted from her in anger. He left his
porridge in the bowl and went out. It was
starlight, and snowy, and he called her name.
But the sound died away over the dim white
fields : and he went forward calling for her,
and into the fields and up to the ford.
174

He searched high and low, far into the
night : and knocked at the thralls' cots to ask
for her. At last one said, coming sleepily to
the door, that he had seen her in the gloaming
making her way to the fell through the bare
woods. He knew it was the wild may by the
glint of red in the boughs on the snow. Then
Thorstein was terribly fleyed, and ran to seek
the place where she had been seen. He found
her track in the snow and followed it up,
leaping with all his might, breathless, and
stopping only now and again to call, and to
listen for an answer. The late moon rose,
and her traces were still there, the little holes
where her feet had gone, and the blur where
she had stumbled or rested.

It was long before he found her, plodding
ahead up the fell, far beyond their bounds.

"Let me go," she cried, "to my own people.
Let be, and forget Raineach."

"To thy people?" he said ; "then I follow."
And he tramped onwards by her side.

After a while she said, " They will kill thee.
Go back."

"What do I care?" said he; and they
went on.

Again she said, " Thorstein, thou art a fool."

" No news," said he.

Then it began to dawn : and they were far
on the moor, and the mountains stood tall on
the rosy sky. She sat down in the snow,
and he sat beside her. Suddenly she put her
hands before her face and burst out into wild

175

laughing. " Fools we are both," she said.
" Look at yon sky, and our own fells, white
and still. And we with storm and blackness
in our hearts. Oh Thorstein, wouldst thou
truly go with me ? "

" To the end of the world," said he.

"And beyond?"

He took her in his arms, and the sunrise
brightened upon them. Long they sat together
in the glow, and forgot the night, and the
blackness in their hearts, and, all the evil of
bygone days, They seemed to have grown
old, now, and wise. What silly children they
had been, once.

It was late in the afternoon when they came
into Greenodd hall, where all went on as ever :
but the two were changed, and saw the spot
as in a dream.

" Mother," said he, " I have brought her
back. Let us rest here awhile : and give us
thy blessing. We'll trouble the house no
more : give us time, and we'll away to a spot
of our own."

" Children," said Unna, " what game is
this?"

"I am a man now, mother," said he. "I
can fend for myself, with her to help me.
Never say nay : we have it all planned, and
ask nothing but good-will."

" Good- will, my son you have: aye, the best.

But, barn, hear reason. You are young yet,

and little you know of life. Bide awhile ;

take your time. Who but guessed what it was

176

coming to? But Thorstein lad, if thou love
thy lass, be guided. There's house to build,
lad, and gear to get. Will you live in the
wood, and eat mast like swine, with a starving
brood of piglings running naked in the mire ?
A man, lad, takes a man's rede: and a woman,
lass, must grow womanly. Is it all done in a

night?"

OUNG they were, but no CHAPTER
fools. They kept their pro- XXX.
mise. Raineach was a new THORSTEIN
creature, anxious to please and GOES
amenable to guidance; willing ABROAD,
to learn all that Thorstein's
wife should know. He on his part acknow-
ledged that there was a deal to do before
he could set up house: and when Hundi
sometimes joked him about his castle that
was to have been on the shore of his mere,
he would take it quite soberly, and reply,
"Aye lad, I was a bit before-hand: but wait
until I have got my gear together, and then."

" Better come for a trip with me this season,
and see what skill we make at cheaping.
With thy goods on my ship, thou and I might
do a conny bit of trade, and see the world :
maybe we'd light on luck, and come back
able men."

Now it was a saying among these people
" Homely wit has homebred barn : " and no
lad was thought much of until he had been
awhile abroad. There was none but Raineach
that had a word against it ; and she was
x 177

overborne the easier because she had made up
her mind to be good, and think of her own
wishes last.

So Thorstein busied himself in cleaning all
the skins he had got that winter, and added a
good few to his stock : and he packed up
everything he could lay hands on, if only it
would turn him a penny, or barter off against
goods that would be useful to him in his
housekeeping. And at last they bade farewell
to all, and taking the shipcarles who had been
used to voyage with Swein, they started
merrily on a fine spring day, down the Leven,
and stood over the sea for Ireland.

At that time there was an unwonted peace
through the coasts of England and all round
about. These were the last few years of king
Athelstan's life, when he had brought his
neighbours under him, or won their good will.
He reigned in great glory and honour, and
his realm prospered: his strong hand, or the
fear of it, kept all the lesser kings and earls
of the North in quiet. Folk were glad of a
breathing-space after an age of struggles and
the great fight at Brunanburg; and even across
the sea there was a lull, so to say, in the
turmoil of the nations. The age of the vikings
was over, and it was now the turn of cooler
heads and wiser counsels to set to rights the
new order of things, and to establish the
kingdoms and governments which had arisen
out of the disorder and wreck of the old
world.

By these days the Northmen had left being
nought but rovers and robbers : they had
become settlers and traders and rulers of
realms on the seaboard of all the northern
lands. And not only in the North ; for scarce
a spot was there beween Greenland and
Constantinople where they or their children
were not found, like bees in a garden, at once
gathering honey for themselves, and sowing
for others the seeds of new life and strength ;
the busiest and brightest of all the kindreds of
the age.

But the Northern lands were their homes.
On salt shores, where farming alone could
never thrive; on bleak headlands among the
seamews' nests ; on lone islands veiled in the
mist or girdled with the surf, homes where
any but a race of sailors would have hungered
slowly to death, or pined into dismal savagery,
there they bred and multiplied, and sang
through the winter, and strove through the
summer ; their wit and wisdom and valour
putting to shame (though little they knew it)
the follies and the vices and the idleness of the
South. It were long to reckon up all that we
owe them, in thought and speech, in law and
custom, in arts and crafts ; for without books,
they made themselves learned ; without schools,
they became artists; without examples, they
perfected laws ; and without bigotry, they found
freedom. A wonderful people, and greatly to
be gloried in, even yet, by their inheritors ; still
more by their own children in the day of their

179

strength. For a thousand years ago it might
well be said wherever a Northman's keel strake
strand there he found his kin to hand ; be it
west-over-sea from old Norway, in Britain or
Ireland and the isles thereabout ; or in Green-
land or Iceland ; or the Baltic coasts, and
thenceaway to the Atlantic, from Finmark and
Denmark to Holland and Valland; everywhere
the Northman's tongue was heard and the
Northman's hand feared.

It was no wonder then, if lads of the breed,
born in this corner of no man's land, and
nourished up among wild folk and woodland
swine, should long eagerly to see the ways of
the world and the dwellings and the doings of
their kindred far and wide. Over and above
the need to eke out the scanty gift of the
earth by sea-going trade, there was the same
spell that had beckoned them up the Crake, as
boys, curiosity, and the love of adventure,
hailing them now from over sea, and waving
afar off who knows what glittering thing, to
which reach out they must, whether they would
or no. " Homely wit has home-bred barn "
aye, indeed, if his overword is always " Else-
where," and his day always " To-morrow."

So it was in the spring of the year, nine
hundred winters, thirty and eight, since our
Lord was born, the lads departed and came
into Dublin Bay. And when they were landed,
officers of the king stayed them to know their
errand and whence they came. When they
said they were chapmen, they were brought to
180

the palace ; for the king's folk had the right to
be first buyers, and to fix the price of wares.

At the gate who should spy them but Olaf
Guthferthson himself. He asked the name of
the bonny boys, and they told him their names
and their father's name, and that they were
from Hougun way.

" What," said he, " are you the sons of that
brave Swein from those parts who fell at
Brunanburg ? Ah ! " said he, " if we had
found but a few more such men, it's not in
Dublin I'd be sitting now, but holding my
court in London town." And when he knew
for certain that they were the sons of Swein
Biornson the kemp, as he called him, he
brought them in to the queen, and bade her
treat them well, for they were the sons of a
better man than any of his.

So for a day or two they had famous enter-
tainment, and thought themselves made men.
But they soon saw ugly looks among the
house-carles of Olaf: and one of their folk
bade them beware of a shrewd turn ; " for
these Danes," said he, "there's no trusting;
and stranger's praise is the surest doom."

So they came before the queen and told her
how their business pressed, for that they had
far to go : and then she bade them farewell,
but not willingly as it seemed ; and a fine gift
she gave them. And as they scudded out of
Dublin Bay, they thanked their luck, and
cursed all kings' houses for downright wolf-
traps.

181

Then, for the wind was in the South, they
went up and cruised about the Irish Sea to the
Isle of Man and the great bights of Galloway.
There they met many of their own people who
guested them in one place and another, and
gave them good speed : but little trade they
did, for their wares were such as all men had
in plenty. They sailed from Galloway up the
firth of Clyde, and by the Kumreyar or Isles of
the Welsh, to Alclyde, which was also called
Dun-breton, where was the chief city of king
Domhnaill : and there Thorstein was somewhat
shy of being known lest a grudge might be
owing him for his escape and for the death of
Gartnaidh. But nobody seemed in those parts
to know or care for old stories of wild fell-folk :
He asked news of the queen, hoping to hear
that his friend Aluinn was by now wedded to
Domhnaill and advanced to be lady of the
land. But folk laughed and wagged their
heads, and gave him to understand that there
might be a dozen queens up and down for
aught they knew : and he asked no more, for
pity of the poor beauty away in the Cumber-
land fells, who had put her trust in the gay
raking spark. He said a deal to Hundi, out of
the fulness of his heart : what a shame it was
that men should be light of love, and how he
would like to see the blood-eagle carved on
Domhnaill's back. To which Hundi Snail
answered lazily that he talked like a great guff:
and Thorstein was near coming to blows with
him.

182

When they came out of the firth of Clyde
they rounded Satiri's muli, the Mull of Cantire :
and sailed to the Hebrides, which they called
Il-ey and Myl, Tyrwist and Skidh, Iwist and
Liodhus; and everywhere they found Northmen
and friends settled, and an open market. So
then they came to the mainland again, in
Sutherland, and looked in at the Lax-fiord,
and rounded Cape Hwarf, and so to the
Orkneyar.

At this time Turf-Einar the earl was dead,
and his sons Arnkel and Erlend and Thorfin
Skull-cleaver had the power. Thorfin's wife
was Grelaug, the daughter of earl Duncan at
Duncansby in Caithness, over the Pentland
firth : and Grelaug's mother was Groa the
daughter of Thorstein the Red. Thus there
was even some far-away kinship between her
and the lads ; and when this was brought
forward they were taken as the queen's guests,
and they got protection for themselves and
their men, and a good market for their wares.
And as the season was now far spent, and the
Northern seas are stormy when the winter
comes on, they asked that they might sit there
in Orkney until the bad weather was over, and
offered themselves to Thorfin to serve him.
How they wrought for him at ship-smithying,
and fought for him in raids on the Scots and
on rough neighbours, and how they saw many
a roof burnt and many a limb lopped, and how
they hunted and drank and quarrelled and
escaped, all this is not in the story : but no

183

doubt they saw life as it was lived, both the
good and the ill of it, and hardened into sturdy
lads, fit for the give and take of the world they
dwelt in.

When spring was come they took their leave
of the Orkney folk, and sailed for Iceland : for
they had a great mind to see what was to
be seen, and to visit all the homes of their
kindred, and never come back until they could
give a good account of their voyage.

Now Grelaug of Orkney had a cousin out
there, the daughter of her mother's brother,
Olaf Feilan. The cousin was named Thora,
and she was wedded to Thorstein Codbiter,
the son of Thorolf Mostbeard, who built the
great temple at Thorsness and was a powerful
chief among the Icelanders. So Grelaug gave
the lads a message to Thorstein Codbiter and
a token to her cousin Thora, nothing doubting
that it would get them a good welcome.

When they came to Iceland they asked
their way to Holyfell, the homestead near the
temple. It was easy to find, for every one
knew the name and fame of it : and in a few
days they came there, sailing Westward and
Northward round the coast and in Breidafiord:
but they learned that Thorstein Codbiter was
dead, drowned in fishing a twelve-month ago
come harvest-time. Thora was still there,
keeping house for her child Thorgrim; and
her brother Thord Gellir was a great man in
the country-side. So the lads were in no lack
of friends here as well as heretofore, and made
184

hay while the sun shone.

Their goods were loaded on Thora's beasts,
and brought up to her house. Thorstein
Swart, who kept the temple, and stood as
Godi until Thorgrim the child should grow
old enough to take the priesthood of his father,
he fixed the prices, according to custom ; and
then our lads were free to go about and trade
with their neighbours. They sold their wares
to such as wanted them ; and those that would
not have them at the price fixed, had them
not at all.

There was much for a stranger to see in
Iceland. At Thor's-ness there was the new
temple, and its high-seats adorned with the
old carved pillars that came from Norway, and
that showed the way to Thorolf Mostbeard,
when first he came off that coast and threw
them overboard to drift ashore. And there
was the inner house of the temple, rounded
like the choir of a church, with the altar-stall,
and the great ring lying upon it by which
all oaths were sworn, and the blood-bowl
and sprinkling-rod for the sacrifices, and the
images of Thor and the gods standing round
about. Outside there was the doom-ring with
the stone of Thor, where men were sacrificed.

After they had done their business, the
lads went with a party of their friends from
Holyfell, riding to the Iceland Althing ; and
they saw the wonderful valley with the preci-
pices around and the deep rifts that seam it,
and the throngs that come together year by

Y 185

year into the midst of that waste and terrible
wilderness of frost and fire.

But when they were safe returned and had
taken leave of Thora, they made ready for
their voyage to Norway : for they had a mind
to see the old home of their kin, and to come
before king Hakon the good, the fosterling of
Athelstan of England. So in the summer,
when the days were long and seas were
fair, they sailed east, and came safely to
Throndheim.

CHAPTER ggfflffiBjEgjlMN Throndheim this summer
XXXI. KINGHEHpl sa1: the young king Hakon,

HAKON THE^^|^^ newl y come from the West
rnrm Il^flli$&m8 coun try where he had win-

\J\J\JU* KM ml OrHSHI r. * "Wlra 111 11

tered. He had been well
(received by the Throndheimers,
for he promised them to get back all those
rights which his father Harald Fairhair had
taken away threescore winters ago : and over
and above that he was a handsome lad and
well spoken, every inch a king. Earl Sigurd of
Ladir, the lord of the Throndheim country-side,
was his great friend, and managed matters for
him ; so that he came peaceably into the power,
when his brother Eric Bloodaxe was once
driven out, and away to England. "He was
the blithest of all men, and the sweetest spoken
and the kindest," say the stories: "and he was
a very wise man, and set forth the laws of the
people with the help of their wisest men ; and
in his time there was good peace amidst
bonders and chapman, so that none did hurt
186

to other, nor to other's wealth, and plenteous
were the seasons both by land and sea."

So when our lads came over the sea straight
from Iceland to Throndheim, they found king
Hakon there, and went before him. He was
big and strong, and very fair to look on, with
long curling hair : and he was only of the age
of sixteen winters, being a little older than
Thorstein Sweinson and somewhat younger
than Hundi.

He asked them many things of their voyage,
and where they came from, and whither
bound. And when they had told all their
story and said they settled to go to England,
and maybe to see London town, "Then,"
said he, "you will go to my home : for it was
but last year that I came thence : and ever
since I can remember anything I have been
bred up there. I reckon it the best of all
places, and would gladly live and die there,
for the sake of king Athelstan my foster-
father."

" King," said earl Sigurd, " that is bad
hearing for us Throndheimers, and for all thy
people of Norway."

" Nay, good friend," answered Hakon, "thou
art hasty. For my mind was to say that I
would fain be in England if I were not called
hither by the best friends I have."

King Hakon bade the lads to supper in his
hall ; and afterwards, when they were beginning
to drink their cups to Thor and the gods, came
a page to Hundi and Thorstein where they sat,

187

and said, " Guests, if you have drunk enough,
there is one would speak to you without."

So they followed him, and came into an
orchard; and under the apple trees they found
the young king walking alone in the sunset.

" Welcome, friends," said he. " I owe you
thanks."

" Thanks, king? " said they.

" Aye : for maybe you had rather sit at table
with earls and famous men, drinking to the
gods, than walk here with such as me ? "

They said that they were glad to walk with
him, and thought it no loss to leave their
drinking. " Hush," said he, " say nothing
over loud ; for here in Norway folk must do as
folk do. Maybe where you come from, the
gods are honoured with drinking after supper,
and with sacrifices at the Thing, and so
forth ? "

They said it was so, among most: "But,"
said Thorstein, "though I know not if thou,
king, wilt take it in good part, many of us
are no great sticklers for the old faith, and
some of us "

" What ? " said the young king eagerly, but
in a whisper, and looking round to see that
none were by. " What, lad ?"

" I was but saying that some of us think
maybe he they call White Christ is a stronger
god after all than old Redbeard and the rest
of them."

' And thou ? " said Hakon, looking earnestly
at him.

188

"King," said Thorstein, "my father was a
prime-signed man, and often has he told us the
story of King Athelstan and his priest, and the
good words they gave him, and how his own
mind was one day to forsake the sacrifices.
But he was a Godi among his neighbours, and
it was not easy to be open about it, and then
he died in battle."

The young king looked at him sorrowfully,
and thought awhile. " It was not easy to be
open about it," said he, " and he died in
battle. Where, think you, is he now?"

"Nay, king, who can tell? He was a good
neighbour, and gave every one his due, and
died like a brave man."

"Ah, but," said Hakon, leaning back against
the tree, "I have heard from a book they have
in England, Whoso denieth me before men,
him will I deny. That was what the Christ
said. Oh lads, it is an awful word. It comes
to me in the night as I lie awake : and then I
sleep and seem to hear one saying to me,
Hakon, I died for thee : what wilt thou do for
me in all this realm of Norway that I have
given thee ? And then I have spoken to earl
Sigurd, and he was angry with me, and bade
me hold my peace, or lose everything. Oh, it
is hard to be open about it, and yet "

" King," said Thorstein, "I am but a young-
ster, and I have never heard sayings spoken
out of books, nor even talked with a mass-priest.
But I have a dear friend, and she had a cross
that she prayed to : and one day she sold the

189

cross for my sake when I was in danger. And
when I asked her how she would pray, seeing
she had no cross to pray to, she said that there
was an old man whom she had seen after she
had sold it, who bade her take comfort, for,
said he, the God of the Christians, they call
him the Lord, looketh at the heart. These
were the words."

" Aye," said Hakon, "that is in the book."

" Is it?" said Thorstein. " Well, king, and
if thy heart is with that Lord, is not all right ? "

The lad Hakon took the lad Thorstein in
his arms, and kissed his cheek. " Brother,"
he said, "I brought you lads here to preach to
you, and you have preached to me a better
word than any since I was taken away from
home to be a stranger among my own people,
and an outcast from all kindly Christian men
among the heathen. You have preached to
me ; will you pray with me? "

They understood nothing of what he said:
but he knelt in the twilight on the grass, hidden
among the orchard trees, while the shouting of
the Bragi-cup was heard from the windows of
the hall. They knelt beside him, and he said
in a low voice, and as if sobbing, the Lord's
Prayer.

Then he stood up radiant and joyful.
"Brothers," he said, "stay by me here, and
help me. I will give you all your heart can
wish, only stay and help me in this terrible
loneliness. We together will win the realm
for the Christ ; or, if we must, die like the
190

blessed saints and martyrs, and go to be with
him in heaven."

Thorstein looked at the beautiful face, aglow
with earnestness.

" King," he said, " I will slay thy foes for
thee, and spend my heart's blood for thee.
And I will take thy faith, and break Thor
down from the temple yonder, if thou wilt."

" Hush, dear lad," said Hakon, suddenly
bethinking himself, and looking round with
the old fear: "Hush, not yet. Oh, it is hard
to know what to do. And there is no one to
tell me. We must be gentle with them, and
win them one by one : we must speak to them
the words of life, and pray for them, and teach
them."

Thorstein shook his head. " I could fight
them, or some of them," said he. "But as to
words of life, king, if they be the teaching of
priests, I know nothing, for I am not even
prime-signed."

"Ah, I forgot," said Hakon.
But you will not betray me. I
your good will, and I love you for your good
words : but it is other help I need. You are
going to England, lucky lads. Do an errand
for me."

They said they would do anything for him.

"Then go to Bishop Aelfheah at Winchester;
and tell him that his son Hakon remembers
his teaching, and that he has sent two brothers
of his to be christened. Take this token "
(and he gave them a little cross which he drew

191

" I am hasty,
thank you for

CHAPTER
XXXII. AT
LONDON.

out from his bosom) "and he will receive you.
And then, if your mind is to come hither
again, think of me and the work I have to
do. Again and again I thank you. Come
to-morrow; but not a word to any soul of
our speech together, if you love me."

They went to their quarters for the night,
and though they saw the king again it was
only when others were by. In a few days
came some of the king's men with a rare gift
for them, and a message bidding them take the
fair wind before it fell. So they made ready
and sailed out of Throndheim firth, and down
the coast : and when they had coasted Norway
they stood out West over sea and sailed for
England.

last they were come to
iGrimsby at the mouth of the
Humber, and thence the way
is plain, what with river and
[what with road, to York, and
>ver the Keel into Cumberland,
and so home. And indeed the lads had a
thought to lay up their ship and take the
journey forth and back to see how their folk
were getting on, and Thorstein especially to
ask after Raineach. But for three reasons
they determined to withhold themselves : first
that they had resolved to sail all round Britain
and never go home until they could tell their
tale : and next that king Eric Bloodaxe, the
new king of York, who kept the place under
king Athelstan, was no friend to Hakon, and
192

awful tales were told about his queen, Gunn-
hild the witch, so that they had no desire to
put themselves in his power : and last, that
they could not for shame forego their errand
upon which Hakon had sent them.

So they sailed round the coast until they
came to the Thames, and up to London. Off
Billingsgate they were stopped by the boats
of the officers, who brought them before the
port-reeve : and when they had told him their
names and business, and paid toll in four
silver pennies, they were free to dwell there.
As it was now late in the year they sought a
lodging in the house of a Northman whom
they met : and in order that they might buy
and sell, and go freely among the Londoners,
he brought them to a priest at the door of a
church, who made upon them the sign of the
cross, so that they should be prime-signed
men, until they might find bishop Aelfheah
and get christening at his hands.

At Yule was the Witan held at Westminster,
and earls and thanes and bishops flocked
together; and among them the man they
sought. Then they had their desire and did
their errand to him, giving him the token of
the cross and the message of the young king.
The bishop wept over the tale, for joy that
Hakon still bore in mind his teaching, and
for sorrow that he should be out there alone
among the heathen. "And yet," said he, "is it
not written, Behold, I send you forth as lambs
among wolves ? May the Lord grant his young
z 193

child the wisdom of the serpent and the harm-
lessness of the dove, and in due time give him
to see of the travail of his soul."

Then the lads asked that they might be
christened : and the bishop gave them in charge
to one of his priests, who taught them as much
as it was needful to know : and afterwards
they were baptised. But when they spoke of
going back to Norway, he smiled and said,
" It is other help than yours that Hakon needs.
You have done well in bringing this message,
and no better news could be brought. As for
his heart's desire, I take you two as the first-
fruits of it. Do you depart in peace, to be
shining lights in your own land. Without
doubt when Hakon is established in his
kingdom he will send for priests fitted to teach
his people, and never fear but there will be
labourers for the harvest."

And here we may say that old stories tell
how the bishop died some seven years after
this, and was worshipped as a prophet and a
saint. But the young king spoke first to one
and then to another of his own friends and
those about him in Norway, and without any
other help of man, won them over to the
Christian faith : and when many were thus
converted he ventured to send for priests, and
to hold open worship. But he was overborne by
the common people, who would have nothing
to do with the new doctrines. So for many a
long year it was a struggle between them ; and
every man that the king won over he counted
194

gain ; and every time the Throndheimers forced
king Hakon to come to their sacrifices and
share their feasts they reckoned it gain to their
side, even if they had done no more than make
him smell the steam of the horse-flesh aboiling
in Thor's kettle. But for such backsliding as
this the king blamed himself in secret, and
went on in life-long fear of the doom of a
castaway; hoping from year to year that
things would turn out so that he might lay
aside his crown, and become a monk, and end
his days in penitence. But his rule was so
good that his people would not let him go ; and
yet he still found it hard to be open about it,
and at last died in battle, and was buried by
the heathen with a great burial as if he had
been one of them.

Now when the spring was come, Hundi and
Thorstein took their leave, and sailed out of
the Thames and round the South coast, calling
as they went at one port and another by the
way, and always increasing their store; until
they came at last to Bristol, which was the
great slave-market for the Irish trade in those
days, and a thriving city. And thence they
sailed down the Severn to those settlements of
Northmen at Tenby and Milford and Haver-
ford ; and so up the coast of Bretland, as they
then called Wales, in whose firths, as in those
of Morecambe and Solway, may a viking had
refuged, betwixt Lund-ey and Orm's Head.
From Orm's Head it was but a short passage
to the bay of Morecambe : and by now they

195

CHAPTER

XXXIII.

THOR-

STEIN'S

WELCOME.

were wearied of seafaring, and longed for home.
And as they sailed briskly by the shores of
Amounderness over the tossing green waves,
Thorstein felt himself already in the arms of
his lass ; and the spray from the the bows
where he sat, with half shut eyes, seemed like
her hair blown about his face. At last the
Black Comb rose over the sea-line higher and
higher, and then the green woods, and then
the yellow sands. There was Ravenside, there
was Barehead's-edge, there was the bonny
Leven between its dear old hills.

"Eh, mother and Orm and all, its right good
to be home again:" says Thorstein heartily;
"but where is she?"

Orm turned on his heel and went out. Unna
kissed Thorstein. There were tears in her
eyes.

PILT milk, they said. His
mother assured him of it. Orm
nodded aye, it was so; and the
thralls, men and maids, cried
" What, master Thorstein is
bad to suit : there's mays in
plenty and bonny ones too, for a well-favoured
young man like thee to light on."

Raineach had run away, and Orm, the good
brother, had followed to fetch her back. He
had tracked her with difficulty to the ship-
strand near Ulfar's town. There he had seen
her aboard a merchant ship, and there he had
spoken to her, and she had laughed and waved
her hands. And that very night a storm had

come, and the ship had gone down with all
aboard : not a doubt of it there was ; he
could ask any one about the great storm two
winters ago was haytime ; and as for this ship,
why folk at Ravenside were still using the
wreckage of her for fire-elding, or were doing
so in winter. And the worst of it was that the
finest of Thorstein's clothes and jewels, the
things he had saved and left under Raineach's
charge against the wedding, were all awanting,
to the amount that a body might bundle up
and carry off without other hands or help.

Again the mother said " She bade me fare-
well:" and the servants said "We spied her
start:" and Orm said "I called to her on
board, and she would not come back:" and
they all swore to the storm and the ship-wreck
as matters of common knowledge.

"Humph," said Hundi Snail. "I did'nt
think she'd have done it."

Thorstein was quite beaten down, and had
nothing to say. He went to Ravenside, and
saw folk burning bits of the wreck that ran
upon their sands two years ago last haytime.
They remembered it well, and how the ship folk
yelled, and what a crowd of corpses drifted
ashore next morning ; and oh aye, there was a
lass with red hair among them no doubt : aye,
bonny lasses and all.

" She's gone, sure enough, poor thing,"
said Hundi : " but I dont understand it,
somehow."

" Nor I," said Unna,

197

" Maybe," said Orm, " she had some notion
of meeting with Thorstein. She was always
having inklings of one thing and another,
what with dreams, what with fancies. And
maybe she was taking the gear to make her
wedding with him, for she seemed a bit nicked
in the head. I would'nt call it stealing: what's
mine is thine, the saying is."

"It's kind of thee, Orm, to speak up for
her," said Thorstein: "above all, when I think
she didn't suit thee over well."

" Humph, " said Hundi, " very kind of
Orm."

When the seafarers' tale was told, and all
their goods shown, who but Hundi and Thor-
stein were the pride of the place ? Folk came
from far and near and they said that it was
none but their own lads would go up and down
the round world, starting as youngsters with
nought to speak of, and landing home great
strapping men who had supped with kings and
fought with earls

"And courted the kings' daughters, and
kissed the the earls' sisters," added a saucy
voice.

" And brought home a shipload that would
be worth, I reckon, about twice their father's
stock, beasts, thralls, and all."

" Well, father, we always said Thorstein
Sweinson was a good lad and would turn out
well." For here was mistress Asdis Asmund's
daughter of Asmundarlea over the fell, as blithe
as ever, and bonnier, if that could be : anyway
198

more womanly grown, with a little motherly
manner towards Thorstein, as if she were very
sorry for him, least said soonest mended ;
but she would make him forget it after a while,
and then. There was nobody but was thankful
to her : for they had been dreading the day of
his return and fearing how he would take it.
But Asdis was that clever, she twisted them all
round her ringers, and him in particular, as
wankle as a wet sark.

If Thorstein was moody and dismal, and he
was that, Hundi was jolly enough for both.
To be home again after a three years' voyage,
and to be made much of wherever he went,
and to be master of his half share in that
rich cargo, let alone the ship and boat-stock,
all this made him welcome at every neighbour's.
As to his christening, they said he could suit
himself; it seemed that it meant money any-
how. And so it was no surprise when Hundi
begged his brothers to don their best clothes
and come with him to Mansriggs awooing :
nor when, after the handfasting, he took land
up the Crake, and began to build him a house
against the wedding.

Thorstein was glad of the job, and worked
right hard for Hundi : and before Yule they had
the rearing-supper, and at Yule the wedding-
feast ; and started housekeeping merrily, with
a full larder and the best of good will from all.
Thorstein went to live with them as foreman
of the farm, and there was a deal to do this
winter, clearing land and getting ready a

199

thwaite for tilling. In the spring Hundi meant
to buy beasts, and pasture them in the fell;
and meanwhile he had plenty to live on.

Halldora Mani's daughter was the name of
the bride. She was a right good sort ; and
Hundi was that fond of her, and she of him,
that Thorstein could not but laugh, many's the
time, as they three sat together by the new
hearth of nights. But if he laughed, he would
fetch a deep sigh, and then take a turn up and
down the floor : and Halldora would get off
the knees of her good-man and go to Thorstein
and bid him pluck up heart : and she would
take his arm and walk up and down a bit with
him. Then Hundi calls out from the hearth,
laughing, " Now, mistress, no carryings on
with my brother : it's me is thy man ! "

" Never fear," she answers coming back to
him. " The poor boy is sore at heart. And
pity it is, when the finest lass in the country-
side would take him at the first word."

"What? Asdis?"

" Aye would she. Many's the time she has
told me that she meant to get him, too. And I
am sure there is no cleverer, nor bonnier, nor
better bred. He might do a deal worse."

CHAPTER
XXXIV. THE
WOOING OF
ASDIS.

HO knows what plots and
plans were laid, and all with
the best intentions ? The up-
shot of it was, one fine day
appears Asdis herself, with men
and maids, come to visit her
dear friend Halldora in the new house. For
200

three days it was " O Thorstein, how well you
boys have managed ! what a fine house ! what
bonny gear ! what a sweet spot! " and so forth.
And everything was Thorstein's doing, as if he
had built the fells and rigged the very sky
overhead.

" Heigho ! " she sighed, when Hundi and
Halldora had left them alone, "it's bad to be
illfavoured."

" Who's illfavoured ? " said Thorstein.

" Not Halldora, in her own house at home :
and with a man of her own fit to kiss the
ground she steps on."

" I warrant Hundi is a lucky fellow : but the
mistress of Asmundarlea must be ill to suit if
she waits a day longer than she likes."

" That's your London talk, Thorstein :
thou'st gitten o'er fine for us hereaway."

" Never say so. Nay, Asdis : there's not an
earl of the Northmen nor an English thane
would be o'er fine for thee."

She rewarded him with a very sweet smile.

"What, we are old friends, lass, are we
not?"

" Aye, neighbour Thorstein," and she gave
him another smile and a blush.

" And I always spoke well of thee, even to
her to her that's gone."

" Nay, was it so ? Poor lass, she's gone.
Often have I wished I had managed to make
friends with her : it was my fault."

"What was thy fault? That you were not
friends? Nay Asdis: it was thou that was

AA 201

good to her, but she, poor thing, she couldn't
understand."

"Ah, Thorstein, if there's goodness anywhere
it's in thee. And well I know that after her
the rest of us are nought."

" My dear, it's years she's gone ; and it's
months I have greeted for her : and now my
heart is like a stone."

" Poor lad."

Her voice was like the cooing of doves in
the wood, and the tears were in her eyes : for
she was as fond of him as she could be of
anyone. And then she was so pretty.

It was a few days after Asdis was gone that
Hundi was late in his chamber, though their
porridge stood ready for breakfast : and when
he came, "What, man," cried Thorstein, "it's
no Thing to-day : and thou with thy best
clothes donned."

" Well, lad," answered Hundi, " it's a fine
morning, and I just thought mayhappen we
might be riding over to Asmundarlea, and I
might as well be ready first as last."

Thorstein blushed. " I don't care if I do,"
said he.

" Well said," cried Halldora clapping her
hands. " Here, sup thy pottage, Thorstein,
good lad : and then don thy red silk kirtle
that ye bought in Londonburg. No lass could
say nay to thee in that."

So by noon they were at Greenodd door to
ask Orm to go with them. For it was the
custom when a man went a-wooing to take all
202

his folk with him ; not only to show that
everything was fair and above-board, and to
have witnesses of the word given on both sides,
but also to show what good friends and kins-
folk he had to back him. For in times when
wealth was held only by the strong hand, the
best of havings was a good following of friends
and friendly neighbours who would see one
righted if need was.

But Orm said he was throng and could not
come : and when they pressed him, he would
not ; and Unna said there was no need, for
she warranted the job was no hard one to
manage. So Hundi and Thorstein, with all
their ship-crew, and all the farm servants that
could be spared, rode over the fell, and knocked
at Asmund's door.

They sat in the hall, and Asdis served them
meat and drink, and Asmund sat in his high
seat and talked of this and that, as though
nobody knew on what errand they might be
bound. It was an open winter: they settled
that. And king Athelstan was dead : they
talked that over. And folk seemed to take the
new king, Eadmund they called him, a deal
quieter than was expected. " Aye, " said
Asmund, " now is the time for decent quiet
folk to be setting up house and settling down."
"Well, master," says Hundi, "it is a
job of that make brings us hither. My brother
Thorstein here has made up his mind seemingly
to take land and build house, the same as I
have done : and he has the money, and the

203

means, and all he wants is the mistress. And
we were just thinking that if thy daughter
could be spared, and if she would take to it
kindly, she might happen do worse than settle
down with my brother : and I am sure there's
nought but he would do for her to make her
happy ; and as to money matters, ye can suit
yourselves."

Then master Asmund put on his sober face,
and hemmed, and said, " Well, neighbour, it's
a fair offer : but it's not for me to say aye or nay
until we have spoken with the lass."

By this time the servants had fetched in
Asdis, who had slipped out, as was proper,
when things began to look like business. And
there she was, blushing and rosy, standing by
her father's seat, and plucking at her apron.

" Well, lass, and what are we to say? Wilt
thou take the young man Thorstein Sweinson ?
For that's the job they have come about."

" Nay, father, it's not for me to say."

" Come, come, lass : that means aye?"

" As you please, father : and as it pleases
Master Thorstein Sweinson. I am sure it is a
great honour for the likes of me."

Then Asmund sent out to the neighbours,
bidding them to a handfasting or betrothal
feast, which should be held next day : and
until then Hundi and Thorstein and their com-
pany were well entertained at Asmundarlea.
In this while they talked over the dowry that
Asdis should have from her father, and the
settlement she should have from her husband,
204

and when the wedding should be, and so
forth.

When the neighbours were come, they bade
them listen to the business on hand, and told
them what had been done on both sides. Then
Thorstein went over to where Asmund sat, and
Asmund put his daughter's hand into the hand
of Thorstein, who said aloud "We call upon all
to witness that thou Asdis Asmund's daughter
dost lawfully pledge thyself to me Thorstein
Sweinson, with dowry due and holden hands,
to finish and fulfil our whole agreement both
trusted and true. This handfasting is fairly
done."

And so the wooing of Asdis was accomplished.

JUNDI sat on his own howe, CHAPTER
and Thorstein with him. They XXXV. HOW
were looking out for neighbours THORSTEIN
who were to come by the old TOOK
path from Broughton beck to LAND.
(Lowick, and to the new house-
hold where Hundi and Halldora were master
and mistress.

" Dost thou mind when we were barns,
brother, how we sat here and parted hence ?
Seven winters have gone since we planned to
keep house away yonder;" and he pointed
upbank, where the Crake came down between
the crags on the right and the Blawith, the
blue wood as they called it, of dark firs
mantling the long slopes of the lower banks,
on the left. And far beyond were the great
fells that surrounded the head of Thorstein's

205

water, this Coniston lake that he, first of
Northmen, had found.

The neighbours for whom they waited were
coming to be witnesses to Thorstein's land-
taking. It was the custom for settlers of
uninhabited land to go round a tract of country,
as much as they could encompass in a day,
carrying fire, and lighting from point to point
beacons which might be seen one from another.
And when this was done with proper witnesses
like any other deed of law, the land became the
possession of that landtaker and his heirs for
ever. Now up the Crake valley, above Lowick
where Hundi had settled, there were no
inhabitants at this time : whatever fell-folk
used to hunt in the woods and fish in the
waters dwelt upon the moors on either hand.
It was Thorstein's mind to take all that upper
valley between Lowick and the water-foot ;
and he had bidden his neighbours, from
Asmundarlea especially, and from Mansriggs,
and round about, to come and bear witness, so
that there might be no dispute thenceforward,
and that he and Asdis and his heirs might
dwell there undisturbed in lawful freehold.

It was early in the morning of a bright frosty
day, when the days were already a good bit
longer than at Yule, that Thorstein and Hundi
and his neighbours were already out, and at
the bounds of Hundi's land before the sun was
up. There was a company of half a score or
so, dressed in their woodland dress of rough
homespun, with axes in their hands ; and
206

^Te j^CnisfanRlIs from Iwick^&Qfy&t

Thorstein himself carrying an iron pot with A PICTURE OF
burning peat in it. They stood by the brink THE LAND
of the stream a little above Lowick force, and TAKEN BY
stamped their feet on the crispy sedges of the THORSTEIN.
marsh-ground, until the sun should be up ;
munching the remains of the hasty breakfast
they had left, in order to be in good time and
to make the most of the winter day. When
the edge of the fell to the eastward blazed, and
the sun began to get above the silver fringe of
trees, a shapeless point of fire, " Away with us,
friends," cried Thorstein ; and they made a
move for the fell where the sun was standing,
and started upbank through the trees that
clothed it, and over the scree that lay between.
Here and there they had to hew their way

207

through the underwood, and where that was
not needed, they marked the trees with great
notches, in order to leave no doubt of the
boundary they had beaten.

As they passed along through the forest,
where every leaf was laced with rirne, and the
frozen twigs crackled underfoot, beast and bird
fled before the noise of their axes and the loud
talk and laughter of the merry company. "A
grand hunting-spot for Thorstein the hunter,"
says one. "Oh man," says another, "there
went somewhat I'd be fain to follow." " Never
heed it, friend," said Thorstein ; " business is
business. Wait till my house is built, and
then I'll show thee a day's hunting, and the
tricks I learned with the fell-folk."

When they came out on the ridge, they
could overlook the whole valley, and down
into the next where Colton stands, and south-
ward away to Legbarrow. Here some of them
began to cut elding and logs to build a balefire,
and others rolled up a huge boulder to be
planted on end for a meer-stone or land-mark.
And when the fire blazed up, they lost no time,
but set out again along the ridge, up and down,
until at last they came to a high place over-
looking the foot of Thorstein's water. To most
of them the sight was wholly strange, well known
as it was to him. The mere was just as he
had seen it seven years before ; just as quiet
and as wild ; only now it lay dark blue
between its white promontories; the shores
were disguised with shelves of ice that stood
208

far out into the ripple, and countless birds flew
screaming about over the open spaces, or dived
and settled in flocks.

On this high point, for the morning was
beginning to wear, they built another bale-
fire, and set up another meer-stone ; and then
picked their way down to the water-foot, where
they came about mid-day, travelling but slowly,
for the way was hard to find, and rough. At
the crossing of Crake, where mere ends and
beck begins, they ate hastily the bannocks they
had brought with them ; and Thorstein, wading
into the shallows with his fire-pot in one hand
and a brand lighted at it in the other, cast the
brand into the water; and as it floated hissing,
cried out, " I take you to witness that this
water and all its snores, oyce and ere, dub
and deep, are hereby in my holding."

Then they started again along the western
bank, and so up into the moor, where they
built another beacon and set another meer-stone.
But here Thorstein bade them turn, for he said
that thence-beyond he reckoned he would be
within the bounds of old friends, namely the
fell-folk of Heathwaite. And he would have
no disputes with them. " For we Northmen,"
said he, " have land enough in the wooded
bottoms, and can well afford to leave the
moor-tops to the wild folk who dwell there."

So they came round in a great half-moon

under the brow of the moor, leaving the heather

and enclosing the woods : and at last by

sunsetting they were back again where they

BB 209

started from. Thorstein took them to wit-
ness that he had lawfully carried fire around
untenanted land, and the land was thenceforth
his and his only. And so after due feasting
at Hundi's, the neighbours went their ways :
and Thorstein, with such as were in his service,
began the building of his house.

On the slope of the great blue fir-wood, that
rose to a howe behind and fell to the Crake
in front, beside a little beck, they cleared
a thwaite, and made the timber of it into
a house. It was no long job to skilled
wood-wrights, and with plenty of hands; for
Thorstein's wealth got him all he wanted,
what with buying thralls, and hiring free men
who lay by the fire for the most part in winter.
The house was like the Greenodd house ; a
great hall with little chambers built along each
side of it for bed-chambers; high roofed and
thatched with broom ; and the walls, where
the roughly squared logs left chinks open to
the wind, daubed with clay and roughcast. A
few outbuildings, byres, and sheds, were put
up to begin with ; and round about the whole
a turf wall was raised, to keep out wild beasts
and to make some stand against enemies, if
such should ever appear. But who would
expect foes in so lone and peaceful a spot ?

By cuckoo-tide, or Gowk-month as the
Northmen called it, the house was standing,
and wanted but little ; and that chiefly what
a body might do after the flitting. And on the
right flitting-days, that is to say about Whit-
210

suntide as we should caH it, they began to
move goods into the house, carrying in first
of all the salt and meal, and starting a fire
upon the hearth. Since beds and benches
were built there as fixtures, there was little to
carry in the way of moveable furniture, and
what there was came in kists on horseback.
And when all was flitted, there was nought to
hinder the wedding.

N the day appointed, Thorstein CHAPTER
and his men, dressed in their XXXVI. THE
[best, to make all the show WEDDING
they could, and carrying food OF
,and drink, rode out a good way THORSTEIN
from the house to meet the
bride, who came riding with her father and
kinsfolk and bridesmaids by the old path to
Lowick. At the border of Thorstein's land
they met, and alighting from their horses ate
and drank to the good luck of the place they
were come to. Then they made their pro-
cession, two and two on horseback, by the
woodland path that led them through the
Blawith. The bride and bridegroom rode
together at the head of the procession, and
right glad was Thorstein to think that at last
he would have house and wife of his own.

" Well, sweetheart," said he, " and now it's
home."

" Is it always like this ? " said she. " One
would say it does nought but rain in your
fells."

" No such thing," said he; "whiles it snows.

211

But never mind ; there's a warm hearth hard
by. Thy riding cape will soon dry on the
rannalbalk."

" Like a man ! to put my cape in the soot
indeed. And what for a road call you this ?
Who will ever come to visit one, away here ?"

"Oh, there's Halldora; she's a good neigh-
bour, and no pleasanter visitor could we have."

" I'm thinking there's been a deal of Halldora
lately."

"Well," said he, "come, Asdis, it'll be all
right when we get there. See, yonder's the
little house."

If the day was dull and cheerless, bright
lights were shining through the windows that
evening, and a plentiful feast was made in
Blawith hall. In the chief high-seat was set
Master Asmund, and beside him the neighbours
who had been bidden to the wedding. Over
against him the bridegroom sat in his high-seat,
with his men on either hand : and on the
bride-bench, set across the hall at the upper
end, was the bride, all dressed in white linen,
with a high white cap and a white veil hanging
down her back, with a silver brooch on her
brow, a gold necklace at her throat, and house-
wife's keys clattering at her girdle. Beside her
sat the bridesmaids and her friends, with Unna
and Halldora on the right hand and the left.

After they were set and the feast was well
begun, Thorstein rose and went across the hall
to his bride, and gave her for a bench-gift
a cloak lined with rare furs and richly

embroidered. Then they drank to him and
his bride, wishing them luck and long life,
and with all the lights lit saw them to their
lock-bed chamber ; at the door of which her
father Asmund gave her with a fitting word
into her husband's keeping.

The next morning, as the custom was, the
marriage settlements were finished. Thorstein
made over to Asmund the gifts that had been
agreed upon, and Asmund put them in the
keeping of the bride, to be her own property.
And folk said that Thorstein had done well
by Asmund's daughter, and that no lass of
those parts could wish for a better husband.
Then they went on to keep the wedding for
three days with feasting and games and every
pleasure that could be got for them. But still
it rained, and they took to playing indoors,
mating men, and wrestling in the hall, and
skin-pulling across the fire spot, and draught-
playing, and story-telling, and song-singing,
and all that a body might do to pass the time.

But before the three days of the feast were
well over, came a loud rapping at the door,
and there stood a man holding the arrow to
bid them to the midsummer Althing, which
was to be in some three weeks. They made
him welcome to the wedding, for they were
fain of somewhat new.

" Nay," said he, " I reckon you will think
twice of your welcome when you hear me out."

" Why so? " cried they all.

" For the reason that our bonny bridegroom

213

here will have to choose between a far journey
and a fair bride, unless he stands out of the
play, and I doubt he will never do that. At
last, neighbours, there is a chance of some
ado, and that speedily, if you take the counsel
of them that sent me. You must know that
when King Athelstan died, no hand was raised
against him that followed, Eadmund etheling
that was, king that is : and all things seemed
to be even as they had been. But why or
how I know not, Eadmund could never abide
Northmen, and in especial he hates king Eric,
him they call Bloodaxe, whom Athelstan had
set over York. So when the word came to
York that Eric was like to be turned out of his
place, he never waited for Eadmund, but went
forth and sailed away out of the Humber: and
men say that he has gone north to Orkney
where Arnkell and Erlend Einarsons are his
friends."

"Like to like," says Thor stein; "and a good
riddance too."

"That's as it turns out. For it's ill mending
bad with worse. The York folk seemingly
think any change lightsome, if its nobut out
of bed into beck, as the old body said. What
have they done but send to Dublin bidding
Olaf Guthferthson "

" Plague on it," says Thorstein : " if it had
been old Thorfin, or young Hakon, but a
Dane!"

" Hear me, I say. Olaf the Dane, being of
the old stock of Ivarsons, is bidden to take
214

the power : and that speedily, before the young
king can step in. And as Eadmund is but a
lad of eighteen winters and no more, it is
thought the Danes will have a chance of
setting up once again in England, Now the
Cumberland Welsh mislike it, and our friends
thereaway mislike it : but they look to see the
whole job done in the twinkling of an eye.
And for you, if you have anything to say about
it, now is your time."

So they asked what was to be done : and he
said that it was likely Olaf would come in with
no very great following, by the old road from
Ellenburg through Cumberland; and Domh-
naill was to be there to meet him, but whether
as friend or foe was yet to be seen. And if
the Northmen wished to have a hand in the
matter, they should be at their Thing-stead at
once, to take counsel with themselves and their
neighbours, and to be ready for Olaf by the
time he came into the defensible road among
the fells.

" What, Thorstein," said Asdis, " you are
never going on this fool's errand, and me
nought but half wed?"

" Why, lass, it is but a three days' run, and
I'll be back again in a hop, skip and jump."

Something seemed to come before him as he
spoke: as when in a dream one says, "All this
I have dreamt before." Then he remembered;
and turned away.

215

CHAPTER [yu^uMBg^g||1ND so, friends," said King
XXXVII. Bi^g^^^^nB|pomhnaill, ending his speech,

THORSTEIN wM ^9ffw| we betake ourselves to the
SEES ffllf^^W H k reat road under Blencathra,

GHOSTS. |^^^^^ and if the men f Athacliath
jggg|^g^2Q|come in peace, it shall be peace :

but if in war, war let it be."

Then all the Northmen took their weapons
and shouted aye to what he had said : and the
meeting broke up, and men moved away in
groups towards the deep dale that led northward
from Legburthwaite. Some sought their horses,
and some were for lading their gear: and
everything was in hurry and turmoil.

" Hundi," said Thorstein, leaning on his
brother's shoulder, " Seest thou yon fell ? they
call it the Benn in their tongue, the fell-folk :
and up yonder are the houses where the beauty
lives : and behind it is the giant's castle, where
I was with with her that's gone. Little did
I think when we fled away over fells and dells
and mountain moors, how it would end with
all of us."

" Leave thy maundering, man, and come
to see what uproar is yonder," said Hundi ;
for among the men left behind by the main
guard there were shrieks and shouts, that
seemed to mean no good. It was but a step,
and they found among the rough followers of
Domhnaill, struggling and crying, who but
Aluinn ? whom they rescued, not without hard
knocks. But still she went on like one wild,
and it was long before they could get reasonable
216

speech out of her. As they led her away, sore
against her will it seemed, in spite of the
mishandling she had got, they heard her story
bit by bit.

What came out was this ; that she had gone
like any other to the camp where the Welsh
king lay, and coming to his tent door was for
marching in. Who but she had the right,
indeed ? But within was another woman, with
two sturdy lads at her knees, and a fair woman
too. " Who is this ? " says the woman.
"Who is this?" says Aluinn, and shows the
collar of gold that certain lover once gave her.
With that the wife bids her begone for a slut ;
and then Aluinn gives her words, and gets to
blows : when in comes Domhnaill with little
love in his looks, and to make short work of
it, turns her out to his rascals.

"The nithing!" cries Hundi. Thorstein
said little, but set his teeth and growled,
remembering what was heard and said at
Alclyde.

But when the fell-folk that dwelt about
Armboth heard the tale, Aluinn's own neigh-
bours whose pet and pride she was, you may
guess if they vowed vows and threatened
threats. As they shook their weapons Hundi
plucked his brother by the sleeve. " We do
no good here," said he, "and may come to
harm. Hie thy ways along with me, or we
are shamed men at the tryst." So they got
off without leavetaking, and footed it down the
dale that now we call the vale of St. John : for
cc 217

their nags were, gone in the tumult, and not a
soul in sight.

Along the old road they passed, bemired as
it was with the trampling of man and horse in
that foul weather, and at every wath the beck
was a torrent. But since the track lay fairly
high on the fell-side it lay dry, if aught was
dry, and was not lost in swamp like the flats
in middale. In the space of an hour or two
they spied a great flickering of weapons and
things waving under Blencathra, and guessed
that the kings had already met, and spoken
each other fair, and were now settling down
for the night : for they could spy tents going
up and smoke starting. And so in a while
they were among their friends, supping and
singing round a fire in the open, until men
dropped off one by one to sleep where they
sat.

But Thorstein slept little for thinking of
Aluinn and her wrongs. She was as it were a
ghost of his old life come back from the dead,
and little ease it was to think of those times,
and then again of these. For, thinking of
Aluinn, he could not but think of Raineach
who was dead : and how he had loved her,
and how fain he would be if he could but get
the sight of her face once more. " Ah my
dear," he cried, half aloud, and opened his
arms and turned over on his side, for his heart
was sore within him. But only the heap of
snoring soldiers lay around, under Blencathra
and the lowering cloud. And yet, what was
218

that face that flitted over the heap, gleaming
in the red glow ?

His blood ran cold to the finger-tips, and he
clenched his hands. He had wished, and his
wish had come to pass. It was her ghost,
he thought: for ghosts come when they are
called. The hair tingled on his head, he was
so terrified. Then he shut his eyes tight,
and drew up his knees, and doubled his arms
over his face, and lay there for a while, still
as a hedgehog when it is scared, and curls
itself up.

At last the terror began to die away. He
said to himself that it was but his own thoughts
his eyes had seen ; and he could not help
looking again. There was a gap in the clouds,
and a star. The fire was not so bright.
Nothing did he see beyond the men who lay
around, though he fixed his eyes on the spot
where the vision had been, as if he dared it to
come again. But it came not. By and by
there was a stir behind him, as of the wind
rising in the trees. He turned sharply round,
and there!

But it was gone again : and once more he
lay quaking, with cold in all his limbs, and in
his heart an agony which he could not under-
stand, like a child when it is beaten for
something it has not done, and cannot tell
the truth : blank misery as when one is utterly
spent with sickness. He lay staring at .the
black cloud overhead, and it was an ugly thing
coiling over him. He shut his eyes and

219

dreamed over the days of long ago : of the
wild, proud slip of a girl that hunted and
fished with him at Greenodd : of the poor little
ugly, blubbered face that leaned over his, when
he was a child captive in the giant's hut on the
fells ; the tears that made dirty water-courses
among the freckles, how he remembered them,
and every eager feature he had loathed at first
and loved ever after. He brought to mind
how he had opened his eyes after his sickness,
wearily and lazily ; and then !

CHAPTER |^^|^ F T| USH ''' she said > "don't crush
XXXVIII. t|igE8BQS^iTB me * or we s ^ a ^ stumble over
RAINEACH'S ^Sttj^^miayon snoring swine. Hither,
STORY. ^ra^^^^^|lad : away with me. Into the

' dost thou mind,

Thorstein ? Why, what a man thou hast
grown ! But I knew I should tell thee among
them all, wolf-dark as it was. Kiss me, Thor-
stein. Am I woman enough for thee now?
Am I bonny? Folk say so; but I'd have none
but thee, heart of mine. Thorstein, Thorstein :
my boy, my little hurt beaten boy ! Ah, but I
will comfort thee. Laugh lad, never greet :
kiss me. Oh Thorstein, kill me not : I am
only a woman, and thou art a great strong
man.

" The queen told me about thee. They say
she wept for a day and a night when thou wast
gone, until Olaf the carle gave her a slap and
bade her be merry. If thou could'st but have
stayed until I got there; it was but a few

220

days. Silly lads to run away from friends !
And yet thou would'st have loved the bonny
queen, and poor Raineach was but her bower-
may : but fain, ah fain to serve thee and her,
anywhere, any way. But it was so long
a-coming, lad !

" Oh me, I am losing my wits. Only have
patience, and I will tell thee all as it happened.
There, loose me awhile, and let me think.

"Orm, it was. Orm said I must tell nobody,
but I'll tell thee, sweetheart. Orm said thou
wast oversea, and bade me come. So I went.
I took all our bravest things to make a show
at the wedding. He set me on shipboard, and
bade the skipper have a care of me, and signed
farewell off the shore. And then the waves
beat and the wind blew, and eh, my head
worked, and the eyes came out of their pits.
They thrust me down among the bulk, and
among poor wretches that howled and groaned
in the bilgewater, and I could see nothing for
sickness. The ship whirled, and flew, and fell
into the depths of the sea. Oh, lad, I was
sorry for thee in those terrible ships; and I
prayed and prayed to have thee safe on dry
land. And there were poor Welsh lasses and
a two or three Saxon ones, worse off than I,
with hands tied : and I loosed them, I did.
And then came the skipper and clouted me
over the head, and tied us all again, and I was
mad with him, and begged and shouted ; but
he laughed, like Orm when he kicks his thralls,
and bade me be at peace, or he would throw

221

me to the fishes. Eh, it did hurt to have one's
hands tied. Did'st thou ever have thy hands
tied, Thorstein? and kick and scream at
people? The other poor wretches laughed at
me, and said things, but I could make nothing
of their talk. And so I was still, for anger and
weariness, all that night.

" Well, when it was day, I was no more sick,
the water was lound, and the men were rowing
us to shore. Then they gave us food, and. the
skipper said I was to look bonny, or I would
fetch nothing on Dublin strand, and shame it
were if all his labour and all the money he had
spent and the care he had taken of me should
be thrown away. He said we should be very
thankful to be there at all, for in the storm
of that night other ships had gone to the
bottom of the sea. I could not hit him, for
my hands were tied, so I spat out the food
they put in my mouth, and I looked as ugly
as I could ; and he beat me. Oh man, I was
angry.

" Then they shoved us over the side of the
ship and set us down in a great crowd of
people, but I was too dazed to take notice.
At last came a fine lady; that was the queen,
understand. King's folk have first weel of the
wares in Dublin town. I was the wares,
Thorstein : think of that, lad. I couldn't
think : but I cried to her in my own tongue,
I am not a thrall, I am not a thrall : I am
Thorstein Sweinson's sister.

" ' What girl? ' said she: and I said it again.
222

" Then there was a deal of talking with the
skipper, and my hands were untied, and they
tingled all over, and I could feel nothing with
them. But I made shift to creep after the
queen : and she led me to the king's house,
and oh she was good to me : and it was a
bonny spot, if it had not -been for the men-folk
plaguing. There's none of them like thee,
lad. I could tell thee things about yon Olaf
but what's the good ? I am woman grown
now, and bonny ; and I can sew and bake and
brew and everything. Thy mother will be
pleased with me now, and Orm, won't he be
surprised ? Are they all hearty, Thorstein ?
And that young lass, does she still play her
tricks on folk ? how did they call her-^-Asdis?"
Thorstein's arms fell and his knees smote
together.

"What's to do, lad?"
" Three days since I wedded her."
"Thorstein!" she cried in a terrible voice,
and thrust him away from her, and fled. He
fell backward, like one that has got his death-
stroke.

T was high day, and he lay CHAPTER
there slowly coming to him- XXXIX.
self; and recalling that dreadful ORM
nightmare, as it seemed, bitter- PAYS.
sweet. At last he staggered to
his legs, and drank at a beck

that ran through the wood. Every one was
gone from the spot where the camp had been :
and whither ? He only knew that Orm would

223

be with the Northmen faring homeward. He
loosened his sword and thrust it back again,
and stumbled forth along the road he had
come but yesterday.

At Legburthwaite the Northmen had halted,
to hold their Thing once more, to talk over the
business that had passed, and finish the work
they had on hand. On the mound the chiefs
were assembled, within the hallowed ring that
no man might profane.

Thorstein leaned on the hazel rods, that
stood as bars from stake to stake to encompass
the place. Some one was speaking in slow,
steady tones, and men were listening, in the
rain, with grave faces, intent upon the speech.

"Orm Sweinson, come forth. News for
thee : ha ! ha ! " cried a voice, breaking the
quiet of the assembly : and there was a haggard
man with bloodshot eyes, beckoning strangely.

Forth stepped Orm : " What now young-
ster ? " said he.

" Raineach is come again, and that's for
thee ! " screamed Thorstein, lashing his sword
through the throat of his brother, where the
coat of mail left it unshielded.

" A wolf, a wolf in the temple ! " they
shouted, and rushed forth. But he was gone
headlong down the bank and across the lake-
foot and into the woods on the other side, on
the rugged slopes of the Benn.
224

NDER Blawith roof-tree sat CHAPTER
dame Asdis, fresh and fair as XL. A
a daisy : and when she had DOOR-
broken her fast she looked to DOOM.
her outdoor servants and set
them their tasks: and when
she had put them all in order, she came in, at
the time folk take their drinkings : and she
drank a horn of ale, and ate sweet cakes, one
after another : and then she washed her hands
at the trough by the porch and got her a clean
apron and sat down in her high-seat, and took
to her sewing; and if the day was hot, and
she dropped off to sleep while one might count
two score, it was no shame to her, now she
was wedded woman and ever a house-wife of
the most notable. And then she wished
Halldora would come to pay her a visit. For
it was nought but dull in these backwoods,
and news was worth whittlegate. So she went
to the door to see if the weather was holding
up : and sure enough it had brightened, as it
does sometimes at mid-day after stormy
weather, and the lift was lighter than hereto-
fore. The rain had stopped, and the beck
was roaring white.

"Who comes tra'mping over the lea land?
Hey lads, a stranger. Run for your weapons.
What, not Thorstein, surely ? and all so
draggled and dabbled ? Wenches, here's the
master, and a pretty pickle he is in. A bath is
the next thing ; but fetch me the ale-tub and
the biggest horn first."

DD 225

For you see she knew the ways of menfolk
to a tittle, to treat them high and low as they
should be treated.

"Well, Thorstein," says she, as he came up
to the door, "here's a conny mess. Sit in the
porch, man, and the ale will be here gey soon.
Thou art not fit to touch before a bath and a
shift of clothes : and I can't have that filthment
of a kirtle on thy new high-seat bolster, thou
know'st. Eh, these men, they are nought but
great barns. Now, Thorstein, what hast thou
been doing ? "

He leaned back and drank off the ale, and
looked at her strangely.

" I have killed Orm," said he.

" None of thy jokes, lad. Say a better word.
How is this? That the bonny bridegroom
could wait no longer ; eh, lad? and made more
haste worse speed homeward ? "

" But it's truth," said he.

"What's truth? Gods forbid. And when,
and where?"

" At the Thing," said he.

" Killed Orm at the Thing? " she cried. " Is
he daft ? It's outlawing ! "

"Then I am outlawed," said he, drinking
again.

"Thorstein! how darest thou? and me but
new wed. Man, this caps aught. Unsay it,
lad, and never torment me."

" There is nought to unsay; it was his due:
and I'd kill him again if he came to life."

"Came to life? Folk never come to life,"
226

said she, scornfully.

" They do, though.' 5

Asdis was pale as grass, staring like a stone
woman for a while. Then she was red as
blood, and looked this way and that, and at
last muttered something about the ale being
over strong on an empty belly. Thorstein
looked at her in wonder. Then she burst
out: "Who has come, then? Nay, I care not
for thy hints nor thy threats, thou false thing
that never was true to me. Away with thee !
who will believe a word from a wolfs head ?
Who dare say I had a hand in it ? What have
I done, tell me that ? What did Orm say,
the liar?"

" Orm said nothing. Maybe Asdis has said
a word too much," answered Thorstein, rising
from his seat and going into the house.

"Thorstein, my dear, Thorstein!" said she,
" I meant nought : I said nought."

But he slammed the door of his lockbed in
her face, and shot the heavy bars, and would
not come out for all she cried.

It was late in the afternoon that horses
clattered into the garth, and there were Asmund
and Hundi and a dozen of neighbours, who
three days ago had been the wedding guests,
and had ridden away from Blawith to the
Althing. Asdis came out to meet them, with
the smile she always had ready, and ale was
standing in the porch. But they would not
drink, and she was outfaced and browbeaten
by their stern looks.

227

" My poor child, it's ill news we bring,"
said Asmund. " Is Thorstein Sweinson
within ? "

"And what's to do with Thorstein Sweinson,
father?"

" I fear me he will be man of thine no more,
if peace-breaking gets its due. We are here,
thou knowest, child, it is sore against our
wills, to summon him for breaking the peace
of the Thing by slaying his brother Orm ; and
we would know, in all kindness to himself,
for what cause he did the deed."

"What, father ? this caps aught 1 It cannot
be."

" Nay; as to the deed we were all in a way
to witness ; for it was done hard by the Thing-
bounds. But what was said none heard."

She clasped her hands until her fingers
cracked, and caught her breath : then she
broke out, " the villain to kill his brother. Oh
me that I am wedded to such a man : a wolfs
head that is to be. Oh father, take me away
and get me free of him,"

"What, is he here?"

She pointed to the door of the lockbed : but
no man stirred, for they might not enter with
the strong hand until doom had been given.
So they cried out to him, but got no answer.

Then stood forth Asmund, for he was chief
man amongst them, after Orm who had the
priesthood at Legbarrow since Swein was gone,
and after Hundi who might happen inherit,
but now hung back. Said Asmund :
228

" Neighbours, a foul thing has been done, no
less than the breaking of the Thing-peace. Ye
know our old use and wont : for how could
we have law or counsel else, unless the Thing
were hallowed from all violence and the peace-
breaker put out of the peace of all true men.
And this is doubly foul, for he that was slain
was our Godi and chief: and trebly, for it was
his brother slew him unoffending, so far as we
know, and unprepared as you all saw. Now
stand we here over against the door of his
house, and give doom,"

So they drew a few paces back to give room
for the accused to stand with his friends at his
door, if he would appear : and for a loaded
wain, so the old custom was, to pass between
the two parties. And they named Asmund
their lawman, and he named six to give
judgment, who took oaths that they would
judge right. Then he stated the case, and
shouted aloud to Thorstein to come forth, and
speak up for himself.

But when no answer was given, Hundi stood
up and said " Friends, you are too hasty.
It is never our way to doom a man unheard:
and if any has the right to speak it is I, who
stand here between brother and brother. Of
him that is dead, I would speak no ill : but ye
knew him. Of him that lives I have no ill to
speak. Ye know him not as I do ; and here I
say that against all seeming I hold him sackless
and sinless."

With that there was a shouting against

229

Hundi, that he was always in a tale with
Thorstein, and both were runagates and had
turned Christians abroad, and there was no
trusting them. Shame it was to Hundi that
he would not take up the vengeance for his
brother, and do right by the laws. Some cried
out that he should be charged with abetting
the manslaughter.

"Nay," said Asmund, "peace, friends. Hear
me. This let us do. Put Hundi in keeping,
and harm him not; but let the jury give doom."

So they encompassed Hundi and bore him
down with their shields, and took his weapons,
and led him out and bound him ; while the six
men gave their doom that Thorstein Sweinson
had broken the Thing-peace, and slain his
brother their Godi, and for that he was put out
of law.

Then Asmund gave out their rinding, and
said moreover that he put the wonted price of
a hundred of silver on the wolfs head, dead or
alive. And then, for the sun was nigh its
setting, they pressed into the house, no man
withstanding them, and made for the door
where he lay, to kill him, as the law was, while
it was still day. They brought a great beam
of wood and battered it against the panels,
swinging it between them ; while others ran
round to keep the back of the house.

All this while Thorstein lay quiet, and gave

no sign, like a fox in its bield while folk twine

the screws to draw him out : and still they

battered, for the door was new built, and

230

strong. And still Hundi lay in bonds without,
struggle and shout as he might.

" And thou, Asdis,'' he cried, " shame on
thee to leave thy husband to his slayers
shame and evil on thee ! Ill befall the finger
that betrayed him, and the tongue that spoke
never a word while they doomed him ; and
mischance on the gear that thou art shifting
from his house. I see thee, woman, and thy
tricks : thou robbing and thy kin murdering.
Shame and scathe on the scrow of ye ! "

For Asdis had bidden her servants carry out
all her goods, seeing very clearly what was
forward, because she was a wise woman. By
this time she had loaded horse and man with
bales and arks, and away down the road
homeward, saying nothing to Hundi's curses ;
which was the easier, for by now the door was
battered in amid great tumult, and Thorstein
was standing there, at blows with his pursuers.
One lay on the ground at his feet among the
wreckage : and a couple more sat in the hall,
out of the fray, nursing ugly wounds.

" Hold, boys," shouted Asmund, " we are
but spending good stuff." They drew back,
seemingly as eager to keep Thorstein in, now,
as they were to get him out before. They
began to drag tables and benches to block the
passage and pin him down, and then they got
fire from the hearth and all the elding they
could compass, and cast it among the splinters
of the burst panelling and the lockbed-door.
And soon the bed was ablaze, with such a

231

smoke that they were glad to get out of the
house : and there they stood in the twilight,
watching the flames catch the roof, and grimly
waiting for Thorstein to rush out and get his
death wound, or to hear his last cry in the
fire.

The wind had shifted to the north-west, now
that the weather was holding up ; and it drove
the smoke of the new green wood in a great
whirl by the door of the house, which was set,
as always, to catch the morning sun. The
men were forced to give it a wide berth ; but
sure they were that he could not escape, and
so fierce against him that not one of them had
a thought but burn and kill. They got victuals
from the out-bowers, remnants of the wedding
feast, and emptied the ale-tub from the porch,
and rubbed their hands while the long tongues
of flame wavered into the air against the stars,
and the forest behind showed every branch
and leaf in the glow: the crackling and spitting
dinned in their ears, and the smoke was red in
coils against the black sky.

There they watched until the fire died down :
and said Asmund, " Lads, we have done a good
deed, for to ash he will be burnt in yon cinder
heap. As for the price, as we have all shared
the work, let us share the pay. Come home
with me and see if I keep my word. And thou,
Hundi Snail, never show thy face again, unless
to thank thy best friends for ridding thee of
thy worst foe. I take all to witness that
justice has been done, and nought but justice."
232

fOREDONE with his anger, CHAPTER
Hundi crept home to Lowick XLI.
|by the dawn of the day, and WOLF'S
[told the grewsome tale to Hall- HEAD.
Idora. She, good soul, wept
[bitterly for Thorstein, and most
of all for the part she had taken in mating him
with that false and heartless minx. When she
had her fill of weeping, she looked up and ran
forth of the house as she was, like one
bewitched.

The day was far spent when she came back,
queer to look at.

" Is there any quarrel between thee, Hundi
Sweinson, and thy brother?"

" Nay," said he. "Would not I have saved
him, but I was bound?"

"And if he had fled?" says she, between
laughing and crying.

Aye, there he was, at the door, bemired and
bloody with wounds, and the hair of head
singed off him, and his eyes nigh bleared away
with the fire through which he had fled. But
she had found him in the woods, and comforted
him, and wormed a true tale out of him, and
led him home. There he was and there he
stayed in safe hiding, for Lowick was an out-
lying spot, with no passing: so they nursed
him for weeks until he was whole again.

But if his body was whole, his heart was
hardened, and never a word would he speak of
good or ill, after that first talk in the wood
with kind Halldora.

EE 233

Now Halldora's one hope was to see this
wrong righted ; all the rather because she
could not help blaming herself for the hasty
wedding. But it was not easy. For there sat
Thorstein like a log, and if he showed his face
it would be death to him and shame to them.
Hundi was a good boy and no fool, but he was
not to be sent on ticklish errands, she knew
that. And now she was tied, for there was a
lusty urchin, Thorstein Hundason by name,
in her arms, with a face as round as the harvest
moon that rose up night after night over
Colton fell.

So one fine day came to Greenodd door the
Lowick folk, with a led horse, bidding Unna
to visit her first grandchild, which she could
not refuse. And when Halldora had got her
as pleased with all as she could be, out came
the story of Thorstein : not easily, for at first
Unna was woe and wrath at her son's death,
and would hear nothing to excuse the slayer.
But who can say nay to a mother with her
first babe newborn? and Thorstein was ever
the best loved and longest lost of the three.
Unna's eyes were opened, and when she came
upon her boy, so beaten down and disheartened
that he scarce knew her, she could do nothing
but weep over him. And going home she sent
for her brother Raud and set the case before
him, and made him a promise of the priesthood,
which had now fallen into her hands to bestow
as she liked. And so he was brought into the
business.

234

And then Halldora sent for her father, Master
Grimkel Mani, and won him over likewise.
And they plotted that when the autumn Thing
was held at the Greenodd Legbarrow, Raud
should be made Godi, and be there with a
great following. Then Mani should come with
all he could bring, and a round sum of money,
which Unna would find, to get Thorstein's
outlawry taken off; and Hundi should confirm
the true tale, and back up the suit.

But in the meanwhile, what with all this
going and coming, and the tattling of thralls,
it leaked out that Thorstein was not dead after
all : and that the men who had burnt Blawith
were but fools for their pains. Asmund sent a
furious message to Hundi to warn him of the
danger of harbouring an outlaw : and bade him
look for visitors some night when he did not
want them. Hundi was greatly put about, but
Halldora laughed, and said that she knew
Asdis would never forgive Thorstein for finding
her out. Grimkel Mani sent some of his
biggest men to bide at Lowick, in case they
might be wanted : and they slept with one eye
open.

Well, the day came for the Thing : and folk
were there from far and wide in their feast
array, and everyone that could be spared of
Thorstein's kin together with their people.
Before the meeting, Unna feasted the elders
and householders at Greenodd, and sat among
them in her widow's weeds; and after the
tables were cleared she bade them to witness

235

that through her son's death the Godord had
fallen to her : that, alas, one of her sons was
outlawed, and the other was ill looked upon by
neighbours, so that she could name neither of
them to the office : whereupon she would give
the place to her brother Raud, who lived hard
by, and was an able man, and would see that
the Thing was kept up with due offerings to
the gods, and entertainment to all comers, and
so forth.

Now this was not just what the other party
would have liked, but they could not gainsay
it, and away they moved to Legbarrow. Then
Raud, as the custom was, killed a ram, and
reddened his hands in the blood of it ; taking
at the same time the oath of a Godi : and so
after due hallowing of the spot, sat him down
on the topmost seat.

Then stood Asmund on the one side and
Mani on the other, each claiming to be heard.
The new Godi ruled that Asmund should have
the first word : for he thought it wise to let
them talk it well out. So Asmund set forth
that his daughter Asdis being wedded to a man
who had been outlawed, claimed to be released
from him, and to take all that belonged to her,
namely the third of land and goods.

For you must know that in those heathen
days, among the Northmen, the wife was
master. She had her own goods and land to
herself, and could sell them for her own use :
even against the husband's will she could make
away with the full half. And yet he had to
236

manage it all, and to manage it well; and to
defend it and her in every way. They were
grand times for the women-folk. A wife could
turn off her husband like a hired servant, for
almost anything that displeased her. And
there was nothing a man could do in law that
the woman could not do as well, or better.
Now Asdis might have just turned off her
husband, with a word, when she left him : but
she would not then have had a claim on his
land. So being a wise woman she held her
tongue, and now brought this suit against him.

There were witnesses to the outlawing at the
door-doom, and there was little defence made ;
for nobody of Thorstein's friends wished to
bind him to the woman ; and as for land, there
was plenty more to be taken, if she made a
point of holding to a bit of uncleared timber.

This business being done, the other put in
his plea. He was a hearty carle, was Grimkel
Mani, Master Moon we might call him by
interpretation. With his great grey beard, and
his tall figure somewhat barrowbacked, he was
well listened to at meetings, and much respected
by high and low, but no great hand at cunning
and trickery. When he began to speak of
Thorstein there was a disturbance. At last
Raud got peace, and the suit went forward.
Mani told how Thorstein had not been heard
in his defence, how could he, standing alone
and all his foes about him ? And then he went
on to tell the other side of the story; how
Raineach had saved Thorstein as a lad, and

237

had been received by his people as a sister :
how Orm had been a rough kinsman to all his
house, and a hard master to his folk : and how
he had tricked Raineach into thralldom, and
made up a lying tale about it.

So far so good : though it was no new story
for a stranger, man or wench, to be sold off as
useless or troublesome rubbish. But then Mani
went on to complain that the doom of outlawry
had been unlawfully given ; for the crime was
done at the Althing, said he, and to the Althing
the case should be taken. He said moreover
that so great a penalty as full outlawry should
not have been laid at a door-doom, which was
meant for little cases, such as the distraint of
goods from a refractory debtor, and such like.
Then he said that the attack had been con-
tinued after sunset, and therefore if they had
killed Thorstein it would have been murder.
" And all this," said he, " comes of the folly of
men I see sitting over yonder, who have let
themselves be led on from bad to worse by a
wicked woman."

Then there was a terrible to-do. Men ran
for their weapons ; and the only way of saving
the Thing-stead from blood was for Raud to
break up the meeting, and draw off his friends ;
begging them to be guided and to save their
strength for another chance.

Thorstein at Blawith heard the news as one

who heeds little. He thanked them for their

kindness, and said he must be going, for he

would not bring them into straits. And so

238

Hundi set him on his way across the Leven to
Raud's-ey, and Raud kept him for a night, and
asked him whither bound. Thorstein said he
had a mind to go far. It was in his heart to
go in search of Raineach, even if he had to lait
her at York and in the house of King Olaf :
but after her anger and the falsehood of one he
had trusted, he feared and doubted, though he
said nothing.

" Kinsman," said Raud, " take my counsel.
Things have gone against thee, but the tide
will turn. Thou hast friends, and good ones,
at Mansriggs and at Greenodd, at Lowick and
here ; and when the truth gets ground and
springs up, it will bear fruit, never fear. We
were in error to open the case anywhere but at
the Althing ; but we shall try again and get
thee cleared at last, in spite of that woman and
her witch-face. It is only a fool that throws
his oars overboard because his tiller snaps.
Now go not far. Over yonder in Cartmel is
out of our bounds. None of our Northmen
will touch thee there : but when good news is
to be sent, thou wilt not be hard to seek."

lARTMEL was a queer spot, CHAPTER
thenadays. It was a little XLII.
village of wattled huts, heavily CARTMEL
thatched above, and daubed CHURCH,
with clay, round the miry
[green where children played in
the sunset. On one side of the green a beck
ran up, and on the other side a beck ran down ;
and between the becks was a big house, not

239

unlike the rest except that it was big and they
were little. That was where the Reeve of the
York priests dwelt. In the midmost of the
green was another house, daub and wattle and
thatch, standing all alone, with a cross on the
gable-end of it, and a wooden tower of open
work wherein a bell hung.

A man in a long gown was pulling at a rope
and ringing the bell. It tinkled in the quiet
air, above the shouts of the children on the
green, with a pleasant music that seemed to
well over the fields of the broad valley, and
their quickset hedges and flagged walls, to the
brown woods of the hills that lay around, and
up into the golden evening sky.

It was but a twelvemonth ago that Thorstein
had been christened and taught the faith : but
since then, what things had happened ? Dare
he now enter the church, he who had kept no
day holy nor heard mass, nor even latterly said
the prayers he used to say night and morning?
It had come to this that his stony heart was
shut to man and God alike. When Hundi
and Halldora knelt, for she had learned her
husband's faith, when they knelt to their
cross, he would walk out of the way dowly
enough. If his brother's blood was on his
hands, that was little in an age when few men's
hands were white : but there came over him a
vague and terrible fear that he could not name
to himself, the conscience of backsliding, the
haunting of Hakon ; and the words of the
applegarth at Ladir rose up in his mind,
240

" Whoso denieth me." He could not say
what he had then said to Hakon, nor take the
answer. " You have preached to me," said
the poor young king : and here he was, a
castaway.

The bell stayed ringing, and there was a
voice within, the sound that he knew well, of
evensong. He sat down by the church door,
rudely pillared in wood with some rough
notching on it to imitate the carving of the
great churches he had seen : and sitting with-
out, listened while Amen followed Amen like
the noise of a beck in a gill. The children left
playing, and stood round him out of arm's
reach, to stare.

By and by the droning within stopped. A
hand was laid on his shoulder.

" Who art thou, son ? " said an English
voice. But there was no answer.

" Who art thou, son ? " it said again in
Welsh.

" A wanderer."

" Returned?" said the priest.

Thorstein knelt before him and burst into
sobs. The children had crept up behind the
priest, and two or three were holding by his
gown.

"Children, run home: it is supper-time for
all of you," said the priest, making the sign
of blessing over their rough white heads.
"And thou, son, give me thy heart. It shall
be in safe keeping."

He led Thorstein into his dwelling and set
FF 241

food before him, and bade him rest. In due
time the lad's heart was opened, and he told
his tale, or somewhat of it ; so much as let it
be known that he was born a heathen and
baptised a Christian, but had fallen back ; and
that all was wrong with him now.

"Aye," said the priest, "for thy sin's sake.
I spare thee not, for it is written, Whom the
Lord loveth he chasteneth. But I smite thee
not, for it is written again, Him that cometh
to me I will in no wise cast out."

" Father," said Thorstein, " I have learned
enough to know that a man may be made
clean with penance from many a crime. Is
there a penance strong enough for such as
me?"

"Son," said he, "for every sin the church
has penance, and for ever sinner she has room.
To confess thy sin is the first thing; to weep
for it is the next ; and what more is there but
to bring forth fruits worthy of repentance ?
For thy backsliding I bid thee dwell hence-
forward with Christians, and forsake the
heathen and their ways. Fast and pray as
it is commanded. And for the man-slaying
thou hast done, if thou have told the truth
about it, God alone will be thy Judge. It is
not for me to bind or loose."

Thorstein slept that night, and awoke with
a new heart. After matins were done the
priest brought him to the Reeve, praying that
something might be given to put him in a way
of living among Christian folk, for he was a
242

penitent and a brand plucked from the burning.

The Reeve, a burly Englishman from York,
and to all purpose lord of Cartmel, looked the
stranger up and down.

"Well, my penitent," said he, "this is church
land, and churchman's word is law here," said
he. " But by thy looks I should name thee
a church-robber, and no lamb of our flock.
However," said he, " since father John there
stands for thee, knowing the risks, I'll see to
it. What can'st thou do, man ? "

Thorstein said, very humbly for him, that
he would put his hand to anything to addle
whittlegate : that he knew something about
beasts, and smithying, and suchlike.

"In a word," said the Reeve, "man of all
trades and master of none, or thou would'st
not be here. But come thy ways, and I'll
prove thee."

Sure enough he set him one job and another:
and if Thorstein was willing at the muck-heap,
he was clever at the stithy: until the Reeve
laughed again, and clapped him on the back
saying, " Good lad. I never knew yon thieving,
murdering rascals could turn out such a
fellow!"

So he guested him in his house that winter,
and took on with him as never was. And to
cap all, when the spring was come, " Young
man," said he, "folk can't be always on hand,"
said he.

"That they can't," said Thorstein wondering.

" And when they are gone they would like to

243

lie easy, by the church yonder, and see things
done right by the land?"

" That they would," said Thorstein.

"Well," said he, "I am but the servant of
the blessed Minster of York, and of the abbot
yonder : but I think they owe me somewhat ;
and what with father John's good word and all
we might manage it. Now, look here. There's
none of these fellows fit to hold a candle to me
and you, and none knows the land as they
that live on it. Reason is when I drop off the
best man should follow me ; and the abbot, he
would say aye to that, if we got the soft side of
him. Now, Master Thurstan, I've a daughter.
She is a fine girl, though I say it who shouldn't;
and a right good one, and the apple of my
eye. But what, lad, thou hast set eyes on her.
What then?"

Thorstein thanked him kindly, and said it
was more than he deserved.

" Not a bit, lad. There, think it over, and
I'll answer for the wench."

Thorstein went to father John, for he was
very thick with him, and never missed his
church, fast-day or feast-day.

" Father," said he, " I would go on pilgrimage
to York. Maybe a sight of the blessed Minster
would do me good."

" Well said, my son : go in peace."
244

lORK city was a wonderful place CHAPTER
as one came upon it by the old XLIII. AT
North Road. From afar its YORK.
towers rose up above the green
tillage of the plain, beyond the
(winding Ouse : and as the tra-
veller drew nearer, he saw the great high
mound that encompassed the garth of houses,
set with its bristling stockade above, and parted
from the fields by a water-ditch as broad as a
broad river. In the midst of this great wall
was the North gate, through which the road
ran ; and within were houses and houses, some
high, some low, some mean like the cottages
at Cartmel, some stone-built and grand with
painting and carving : but all cheek by jowl,
as one may say, along the narrow winding
streets, thronged with people and wares set
out to sell, and foul with the refuse and rubbish
of a thickly inhabited town.

Above the house-roofs rose a great building,
the famous Minster: with its towers standing
high over gable and pinnacle, graceful and
slender. Up there the bells clanged above the
din and hurry of the town in those dark deep
streets, like deep roaring gills and whirling
torrents below.

But it was not for the Minster that Thorstein
was bound, as he elbowed through the crowd,
and picked his steps over the unpaved lane
that was more gutter than path. He hardly
dared question the wayfarers, such a stoore
and a stir there seemed to be. But he knew

245

that somewhere in the heart of the houses he
should find Olaf s palace, the new castle that
had been built after Athelstan destroyed the
old Danish stronghold, the great hall where
King Eric had sat with his witch-wife, ' and
skald Egil the swart had sung the lay that won
him his head.

So he went forward along the streets, with
a beating heart and pale lips, towards the mid-
most of the city where the great towers rose.
When he came before the castle there was an
open space, and the houses fell back like trees
from a green glade in the forest. But instead
of coneys skipping in the grass, here was a
great crowd gathered and a tumult going on.
Out of every window round the place was
a head thrust, and folk fringed the house-
roofs a-straddle on the thatch-rigging, and all
shouting at once. Stones were flying; and the
shopkeepers at the corner, where Thorstein
came into the square, were scrambling their
goods under cover and shutting their shutters.
It seemed as if the townsfolk of the baser sort
were trying to force the castle doors : and
whoever came out of the narrow streets, like
rats out of their holes, thrust themselves on
their fellows in front and shoved and shouted;
and ill luck it would have been to have tripped
in the midst of that scrimmage. Over heads
and fists many a stick was waving ; and here
and there an axe, and here and there a sword,
flashing in the sun-gleam, that now and then
broke on the square through the rain-showers.
246

On they came by hundreds; aye, by thousands,
swarming : for the old books say that in those
days no less than thirty thousand souls were
crammed within the narrow walls that girt the
city of York ; so you may well believe there
was no lack of hands in a townsfolk mote,
whether for peace or for righting.

" What's to do, friend ? " says Thorstein
to a neighbour, who by the look of him was
no Saxon, but a Dane ; and a right hearty,
well-to-do looking merchant man he seemed,
now that he had got his goods shifted, and
shutters up, and stood there with one hand
holding his door ajar, and with the other
gripping his axe.

"What's to do?" repeated the Dane; "why,
it's the old story. A stranger, eh? none of
the Saxon folk anyhow." For Danes and
Northmen talked the same tongue, and fore-
gathered among strangers.

"Nay," said Thorstein, "no Saxon, though
a traveller from over the fells."

" No offence," said the Dane : " but one
can't be too careful, with Southron spies all
about. Our kinsmen, thou knowest, friend,
have no bed of roses in this bonny burg."

"I know nought," said Thorstein. "What
is forward?''

"What thou seest, and I hope they may
break the castle. For if the great doors
yonder hold, they will sack the shops for want
of a job. Thou hast heard, maybe, rumour
that king Olaf is dead. To-day it is assured.

247

It was somewhere in the North, Tyningaham
I think they called the spot. Look out, man ! "

There was a rush towards the door, and
stones flew. The Dane plucked Thorstein into
the house, slammed the door, and made it fast
with stout bars. Then he cast an eye on the
bolts of his window, and laughed as they stood
in the shop, lit only through the cracks in the
shutters.

" It is a pretty stiff bit of oak," he said.
" We shall hold out awhile, unless they take to
fire-raising, and that would risk their own
kennels. Well, as I was saying, Olaf being
gone we must have a new king. Some of
these Saxon rubbish would be glad to see the
Southrons in here : and anyhow they mean to
make hay while the sun shines."

" So they are trying to plunder the king's
house ? " said Thorstein.

" That's it : but never heed them. I have
seen three or four such ados in the last few
months, and one gets hardened. Though
indeed if it were not for business, I should be
glad to be safe again over the seas. It's a
fine town, is Dublin. Thou wilt not be from
thereaway I reckon ? "

"Nay," said Thorstein: "but I was there
a while when Olaf Guthferthson was king, and
indeed I was guested in the king's house, and
it is now for nought else but to have speech
with the queen that I am in York."

" Then, my lad, thou art a bit late : and a
good job for thee too, if those rascals how
248

they shout! get into the castle.'*

" She is gone then ? What, is she dead,
poor thing?"

" Nay, not so bad as all that. You see it
was something o' this way. Olaf owed a deal
to Earl Orm, for without him he would never
have halved England with Eadmund. And
Orm is a good business man, and looks ahead.
Says he to Olaf, If anything happens now to
Eadmund, thou wilt be king of all England :
and what shall I get that helped thee thereto ?
Says Olaf, What wilt have, friend? Says Orm,
There's my Aldith should be wed : queen of
York is not bad, and queen of England is
better. Says Olaf, Well, says he, king Harald
Fairhair had more wives than one. Nay, nay,
says the Earl, that's out of fashion nowadays,
and I doubt if the Minster-folk would stand it :
the king of York is a good Christian now, my
lord, and behaves as such: eh? So Olaf he
goes to the Irish queen and My dear, says he,
a sad unhealthy spot is York city ; better go
back to Ireland. Says my dame to me, but
come in, man, and make thyself at home.
Any news from Dublin will be welcome to the
mistress."

So he brought Thorstein into the living-room
behind the shop. It was crowded up with
their goods, and looked like a poor place after
the great halls of the Northmen : but every-
thing was rich and rare. Such hangings to
the beds, such carved work in the tables and
stools, such shining copper pots and pans!
GG 249

And the merchant's wife was dressed as grand
as a queen, Thorstein thought, with brooches
and rings for a dozen. The children even were
finely clothed, though they would have looked
but blue and wan alongside of the applecheeked
rogues from the Northmen's homesteads.

" Dame, it's all right ; the doors are well
barred, and if they break them there is the
earth-house to hide in. But see, here's a
young man has been in Dublin."

"Welcome, friend," said she, "and what
news of the old country?" Thorstein could
see with half an eye that the Dane's wife was
Irish, and so he replied in the language he had
learnt among the fell-folk, saying that it was a
good while since he was in Ireland, but he was
now come to speak to the queen, who had
been friendly with him once. At which Master
Dane screwed up half his face and winked, and
his wife shook her head at him, and said the
queen was a good body, and sorry she was for
her, and pity it was they had not gone back
together with her to Ireland.

"Nay, nay," said the Dane: "business is
business. Keep your shop, say I, and your
shop will keep you."

" Well then," said the wife, " keep thy shop,
my lad, and this young man will take a bite,
and be the readier to lend a hand if needed."

So she set food before him, and he ate. And

while he ate he turned over in his mind the

chances about Raineach. Soon he burst out,

" Mistress, is it true, as the master says, that

250

all the queen's folk are clean away and out of
the castle?"

" Aye," she said, " and a burning shame it
was : but better for them maybe. They got a
good ship to sail in, and good pickings. They
were stinted of nothing."

"They would be a deal about the town before
leaving York, and well known to all?"

" Oh aye, it was always in and out ; they
coming to our shop and we at the castle. Not
so bad to do with, they weren't, for king's
folk."

" And did you happen to know a great lass,
a bonny one with red hair, a bower-may that
the queen made much of, Raineach by name?"

" And what of her ? " asked the dame.

" Oh, she was just one of them in Dublin."

" Was she that ? Ah, she was a sad one if
ever there was. Hey, man, hark here! The
young man would have news of that great,
strapping, red-haired wench, her that the
castle-folk were always fighting about."

"The minx!" shouted the merchant from
the shop. " Never heed her, lad, wherever
she is."

" All the men were after her," went on the
dame, "and never a one would she take. And
that proud with folk, she might have been a
king's daughter. I'll be bound she was no
good, though the queen was always abetting
her. Olaf would have let them stone her for
a witch, one time, but the queen got her off.
She'll be gone with the rest."

251

It was little help he would find there, Thor-
stein said to himself: but angered as he was,
spoke fair: and said he would take a turn at
the look-out while the master came to his
supper. But the tumult had died down, and
the rabble was dwindling as speedily as it had
gathered. The stir was over like a summer
storm, and evening had come. Thorstein
asked where he could find a lodging for that
night, and said he was not penniless. The
Dane merchant said he would be glad to board
him, but one might see there was little room
for guests in house or shop. Nevertheless
there was close at hand a house of priests
called St. Peter's, where travellers were lodged,
and he would set the stranger on the way
when all was quiet.

So Thorstein came to St. Peter's (the place
that was afterwards called St. Leonard's Hos-
pital) which Athelstan had founded not long
before, giving to the Minster priests a thrave,
that is twenty sheaves, from every plough-land
in the bishopric, that they might entertain
strangers and do good to the poor and sick.
There he was received, and no questions asked :
and they gave him supper in the great hall,
and a place to lie down for the night among
other wanderers and wayfarers. Some of them
were decent folk, some ugly-looking enough to
make Thorstein feel for the few silver pennies
he carried, and tuck his poke well into his
sleeve, and loosen his weapon in its sheath,
before shutting his eyes. But he slept safely,
252

still seeking even in his dreams for Raineach,
who was now farther away than ever.

When day was come, and the doors were
opened, the priests' officer gave each wayfarer
a cake of bread and bade him God speed.
Thorstein stood there in the doorway with his
dole in his hand, and sore doubt in his heart
which way he should turn. East or West was
all one to him. The Minster bells broke out
into a chime, and pealed through the air.
Sweet and sunny it was after last night's riot
and unrest. He bethought him that this was
the Lord's day ; he could not leave York
without at least hearing a service, now that
he was a Christian man once more.

People were going all one way in the streets,
but quietly now, and very unlike the crowds of
yestereven. He followed them and went with
the stream into the shadow of the Minster
tower and up the great steps, gaining one at a
time in the throng at the porch. Presently he
was carried through the dark door, and inside
as into some sudden astonishing turn of a
dream. For it was wonderful broad and lofty in
there ; the walls betwixt the arches and above
the ranks of columns were inlaid with polished
marbles, painted with long processions of deep-
robed saints and emblems of glory, lit with
glimmering, flower-like windows of glass, and
ceiled with canopies of carven work, with
beams and bosses wrought curiously. It was
the building of archbishop Aelberht not long
since finished ; the new church risen on the

253

ruins of the old church that Halfdan's Danes
had burnt; witness to the life and might of
the faith, a noble monument of craftsmanship.
Its gilding was yet untarnished and its rich
colours were as if fresh from the hands of the
artist ; a marvel to behold, even for a traveller
who had been in many lands and had seen the
dwellings of great kings, and temples both of
the old faith and the new.

Thorstein knelt on the paved floor, and
beside him and around him knelt the people,
men and women, rich and poor: maybe among
them many who last night had been foremost
in the tumult, side by side with those they had
attacked to rob and slaughter. Far off, in the
twilight of the choir, re-echoed from roof and
aisles, came the sound of the singing and the
solemn voices of the priests: the very psalms
and prayers that were heard in little Cartmel
church among the mountains, and in every
church of Christian folk from thence throughout
the round world. Everywhere the same, and
in every age. For to think of the abidingness
of it all ! Kings came and went, nations rose
and fell, but the church drooped its head only
to raise it more gloriously. Year by year,
while battle and plague were raging without,
within the Minster welled, as from a healing
spring, the same unending litany for peace
from poor folk to the poor folk's God.

No prayer said Thorstein as he knelt thus,
while the voices from the choir rolled forth like
gathering thunder, or murmured through the

254

aisles uncomprehended like the wind in winter
trees. It was enough for him that he was in a
holy place, in the palace of God, in the very
presence of the King of Heaven. Surely the
Lord Christ there, somewhere in the dim
bewilderment of gold and gloom, amid those
cloudy odours and mysterious answerings of
music, surely He was looking forth. And what
was the word ? The Lord looketh at the heart.
Peace, then.

JERY home-sickness, and noth- CHAPTER
[ing else, drew Thorstein back XLIV.
[to Hougun. He stayed awhile WOOD-
[in York, hoping for news; but EIDERS.
[the only news was of Olaf s
[death, sudden and strange,
the hand of God manifest, folk said, and St.
Balthere's vengeance on the church-burner.
So all was fear and flight in the old city and
throughout Deira.

Then Thorstein took leave of his friend the
Dane merchant, and shirking talk with the
Minster-priests, won his way back over the
Keel, and wandered homewards.

Out of the Northmen's land he was free from
their laws. But in those days a stranger was
a stranger, in whatever land he abode. If he
had no strong friends he was nought. So that
between wandering abroad and wood-biding at
home there was little to choose.

Now the way of the wood-biders was this.
When a man was utterly outlawed no friend
might receive him, under pains and penalties;

255

every enemy had the right to hunt him like
a wild beast, and to get the reward for
killing him, if reward were offered. So there
was nothing for it but to stay in the forests,
hiding in some cave or secret hut of tree-boughs
and turf, and living on what he could hunt, or
maybe rob from the neighbours who had put
him out of law. In this manner, not so long
afterwards, William of Cloudeslea and Robin
Hood fled to the greenwood, where the king's
sheriffs could not take them. And even to
these days, men who have been in trouble with
the law have been known to hide themselves
in the wide woods that cover the Furness fells,
skulking by day and prowling by night ; some-
times friendly enough with the poorer sort,
and troublesome only to the gentle-folk and
greater farmers of the neighbourhood, whose
stock they pilfered : and their hiding-places are
well known to those that know the country
well. In the end these wood-biders either got
their peace with the law, or were hunted down,
or died like wild beasts in the wood.

Thorstein was not without hope that his
business might be done by his friends, whom
he never doubted. But when he came one
morning to Lowick, risking his neck for the
sake of news, he heard that things were no
forwarder.

" But," said Halldora, " hark to this. Two

days ago, as I was sitting in the sun it was

bright autumn weather and the child was

kicking about on the grass, I heard him

256

crowing and chuckling; and I looked up from
my sewing, and there he was, staring at some-
what, and laughing. Then I was ware of one
among the trees hard by, for it was on the
edge of the wood, looking eagerly at us
though the branches. I could see nothing but
the gleam of an eye, and a white hand. I
made no stay, but caught up the barn and
ran for it. And yet by the white hand, I
reckon yon was a woman ; and none of the folk
hereabouts, be they fell-folk or farm-folk, by
the same token. But by the gleam of eyelight,
I reckon she was gradely tall for a woman.
What dost make of that, lad? "

He went straight to Greenodd, caring nought
who might meet him. Into the hall he strode,
and " Mother," said he, "where is Raineach?"

She was not so very far to seek after that ;
nor so very hard to suit when he found her.
The true tale had come out on both sides.
Unna had told her of Orm, and of Asdis, and
of Thorstein's beguiling; and Raineach had
given her own story, how she was carried to
York, after finding that Thorstein had left
thinking of her; and then of her adventures at
Olafs castle there; and then how they were
sent away, and sailed round by Pictland and
Orkney and the South-isles ; and then how the
wind had brought them to the Cumberland
coast, and how she wept at the sight of her
fells again ; and how the queen was sorry for
her, and said at last, "There, wench; hie away
with thee, and have better luck than to be a
HH 257

king's castaway." " And maybe," said Rain-
each, reddening, "she was a bit weary of me,
for there was always some stir forward, and she
had no man now to keep her folk under. Any
way, by dint of this and that, I made shift to
get clear of them all ; and short was the way
hither, for fells are easier to pass than foes."

O but Raineach was grown great and strong,
and more than womanly, for she was such a one
as a giant's daughter should be; but as fine
spoken and as fair-skinned as a princess, with
her three winters of court and castle-biding.
She had got used to outlandish doings and
unkid havings, one could see that by the very
way she supped her porridge. But when
Thorstein told her to think twice before she
took him, and he did so, how she laughed !
The rose-red came and went, up and down the
bonny slim cheeks. She reached out both her
hands, and held his. It was good to feel that
firm grasp.

" How many times dost thou reckon I have
thought of it, lad, before now ? "

They walked together over the fells by wood-
land paths where none could spy them, to a
little village near the shore of Duddon firth.
There they found the priest whom Raineach
had known of old, he who had given that
counsel to her when she sold her cross to the
wood-wrights. He was a strange figure, with
high shaven brow and hair long behind ; the
beard thick above his mouth, and cropped
below. And his little church was more like a
258

hut of the fell-folk than the clay daubing at
Cartmel ; for he was one of the old sort, and
of the rule of those Irish priests who came over
sea and settled up and down the Cumberland
coasts, building them stone cells, and there
serving those Irish saints, like Patrick and
Sanctan and Bega, whose names are still
known hereabouts, and were known long before
the York Minster-priests came to that land.

There was no grand wedding, with neighbours
to feast and gifts to scatter. They knelt alone
in the bare little cell before the priest, and in
his own speech he blessed them in the name of
the Father and Son and Holy Ghost, and bade
them be one heart and soul, world without
end. It was no wedding at all, the heathen
Northmen would have said, this of the outlaw
to the stranger, unwitnessed and unwarranted.
But then, to the Christians the bridals of the
Northmen were nothing, no more than a
manner of partnership in trade, that could be
on and off like any other bargain in worldly
matters.

It was Thorstein's hope to rebuild his own
house at Blawith, if he had to do it with his
own hands, none aiding him. And if he could
but settle there again and hold his own, far
away as it was from the neighbours and buried
in the woods, he thought the turn of the tide
would come, and after a while he would be
once more a free man among his own people.
So he knocked up a shed among the ruins, and
gathered together such trifles as he could save

259

PEELISLANP

out of the wreck. But they had not been a
week at work on the new home, when before
daylight one morning the dogs awakened them,
and they fled into the wood, only just in time.
Their little cot was ablaze, and a band of
armed men was slashing about, and hunting
for them up and down.

But they would not leave hope, so fully
persuaded as they were that better days were
coming. It was the back-end of the summer
by now, and winter was upon them. It would
not do to risk another door-doom ; and as they
cowered in hiding wood-biders well skilled in
the craft they talked out a plan to put more
than dry land between themselves and their
enemies, until the time should come when they
might get peace.

In the midst of Thurston-water there is a
little island, lying all alone. When you see it
from the fells, it looks like a ship in the midst
of the blue ripples ; but a ship at anchor, while
all the mere moves upbank or downbank, as
the wind may be. The little island is ship-like
also because its shape is long, and its sides are
steep, with no flat and shelving shores ; but a
high short nab there is to the northward, for a
prow, so to speak; and a high sharp ness to
the southward, for a poop. And to make the
likeness better still, a long narrow calf-rock lies
in the water, as if it were the cockboat at
the stern ; while tall trees stand for masts and
sails.

The island is not so far in the water but that

261

one can swim to shore, nor so near that it
would be easy to attack it without a boat:
and at that time boats there were none on
these lakes, except maybe a coracle or two of
the fell-folk. For fishing, no spot could be
better, nor for hunting, if one wanted a safe
home and hunting-tower. And if need were
to run down Crake to Lowick for news or
victuals, that could be done with little risk.
This should be their hold and their home,
they planned. Here they would make them-
selves secure, and let the storm drift over
their heads.

So said so done. By nightfall they were on
the island, with little goods indeed, but with
a fire alight, and a rough lair of branches
wreathed to shelter them. Into it they crept,
and cuddled together as when they were
children, laughing at their makeshifts and eager
over their designs. Through the shivering,
falling leaves the moon shone, patterning the
grass of the glade in their dell, and dying out
as the clouds raked by; flashing again, and
fading. The woof of the waves against the
rock-wall of their castle, and the voice of the
wind flying past, booming in the great forest
that rose steep over against them on the
eastern shore, and then shrieking in the
branches overhead, all these touched them
not in their shelter, and only made their peace
more peaceful, and their security more secure.
It was the old time come again for both of
them, and they were as lightsome as children
262

in their new happiness.

" Hark to the wind," said Raineach, " afar
and away there : it will be down at the water-
foot now, ruffling the great oak trees as if they
were barns' curly heads. It is coming upbank.
Ah, it is catching the nab end : hark to the
dash of the waves on the shore and on the
rock in the water. Here it comes. That was
a big one, Thorstein : it made the ground
shake, like a ship-deck. I had liefer be here
than on shipboard, though. Shall we hold,
thinkst thou?"

" Oh aye; the trees sway a bit and the roots
jar in the mould : but we are snug enough
here. It's not the wind will harm us."

" Nay, the wind is bonny. It sings. They
used to sing a deal in Dublin, the bards, and
there were your skalds, they called them, in
York : whiles they sang me songs all to myself.
They were fools. It was like this: The red
fern is tall and fair. She sways in the autumn
breeze. Swords flash: blood flows. The red
fern heeds them not. Nay, nor I didn't. Not
I. They sang nought. But yon wind, what
does it sing? Home again, child: home again,
old playfellow : home ! Make a hole, lad,
through the bield to spy at. There's no
window in our island palace : and I want to
see the fells, and count them. Nay then; it's
no use: we are all umbered up with trees.
Aigh ! it is wolf dark : pull the boughs again,
Thorstein ; the wind blows at me through the
spy-hole."

263

CHAPTER
XLV. ON
THE
ISLAND.

" The pet of Dublin and the pride of York
has got over nice and nesh with her queens
and earls and such like, I doubt, for a bield
in the wild wood. Nay, don't nip like that,
Raineach : it hurts, thou great rough minx!"

" I'll be named no names then. Did I hurt
thee? Truly? Beat me. But thou, Thorstein,
never cast up against me what was none of my
doing. I did no wrong to thee, of all people.
None. The wind knows. Hark, it begins
again. What is it saying ? The red fern
grows round the tall great stone, out on the
fell: on the fell. And it grows and it grows,
and it hides it, and it smothers it, and it
chokes it, all in its red red hair! "

"Oh let be, lass; I am that weary. What
is the night for but to sleep? It will be up
and doing, over soon."

" There, then, shut eyes. Bad lad, they are
not shut. I can see them, I can see them in
the dark, shining. Dost thou mind the wild
cat, Thorstein, and how angry we were? Now
we are never to be angry again, are we ? Shut
eyes and snore, I say, or I'll beat thee."

ERE as the days went on they
made their home. It was no
great job to build a cot in the
gap between the two ridges,
the twin backbone of the is-

land: for the rock on either

hand is steep like a solid house-wall for more
than a man's height, and runs thus maybe two
hundred feet, now choked with ruins of the old
264

building that once stood there: but formerly a
deep and sheltered trough.

They had only to roof it over with poles,
which they cut from the trees growing on the
spot, and to thatch it with boughs and turfs
like one of those huts the woodcutters and
bark peelers make themselves even nowadays
in the woods. Then they built up the ends,
leaving doors and windows, and there was as
snug a home as might be in all Lakeland.
Nor so long a task was it, either, for a lad
like Thorstein, who many a day before had
enterprised to build a house for the folk of
Heathwaite fell.

And then he bethought him of a bit of a
boat, to make the shoreward journey easy.
For himself, he could swim like a duck : but to
ferry another, and to fetch such things as kind
friends might give, not to say for fishing and
fowling, and for watching the shores of his
mere, something more was needful than swim-
ming-strokes and a wet sark.

The fell-folk had their own old way of boat
building, which was this. They cut a tree, and
trimmed its ends with the axe ; and then,
heating cobbles in the fire, they burned out
the heart of the log and hollowed their canoe.
But a Northman born, who was no mean
woodsmith, thought scorn of that ancient
makeshift. And yet to save time, he was
content with bent boughs, and withys to bind
them into a framework, and skins stretched
around all : making a coracle light to lift and
II 265

easy to drive, even when the water was none
so lound. For our lake-waves never run high
like sea-billows, though the strength of the
breeze and its sudden gusts sometimes give a
row r er hard work to keep head to wind. And
the many sharp rocks and cobbly shoals
upstanding beneath the water-line are some-
what dangerous for a heavy boat under way:
but with a light craft it is light work. And
no sweeter life could be dreamt by one to the
manner bred than this fishing and fowling on
a teeming mere, aboard of a handy little thing
that answers every touch and wish of the
rower.

So thus they lived as if life were one holiday :
safe from prowling beasts and far from man-
kind. Now and again Thorstein would travel
down Crake to his friends, who helped him
willingly with goods and tools and porridge-meal
for housekeeping. And yet it was little they
lacked, to be as well off as they used to be in
early days among the fell-folk. There was
the same hunting ground; firewood and the
sweetest of water in plenty; and well they
knew, if any did, how to make the most of
the wilderness and all it held, and when that
was done to be content.

For a long while nobody meddled with them.
It seemed as though they had been forgotten.
And just to be let alone, and to be together,
was enough to make the morning bright and
the evening merry. Winter was not so sharp,
down there by the water, as it was on the fells.
266

The lake freezes over but seldom, and even
the hard weather was friendly to them, for it
sent beasts and birds down from the high lands
to milder grounds, and so to their larder ; and
the warm feathers and furs were welcome for
clothes and bedding.

When the spring came, and lilies made the
shores all golden, and the snow on the great
fells dwindled into delicate lacework, white in
the blue air, then Raineach was glad of the
sunshine to sit in, at the land-locked harbour,
plying her needle, while Thorstein was away
in the boat fishing. He was never so far but
she could climb upon a rock and spy him out,
a speck upon the broad water-line. Then she
would wave to him, and if he was not busy
with a fish he would wave back. So it was
not lonely. After the worry and weariness of
the court, where there was no true friend to
count on, it was the merriest company. The
loneliness was when she was lost in the crowd.

But when the bluebells lay thick upon every
rock ledge of the island, sweet smelling and
bluest blue in their fresh green leaves; when
the cuckoos called loud from shore to shore,
and the sun was strong, looking down into the
depths of the still water and counting every
different stone, laid clear and fair in its crystal
bed, and the minnows flickered over them;
then sometimes she would weep a little to
herself as she sat. She could not tell why, if
it were not that she was in dread of the time
when he would be again among his own people,

267

and hdrs the less: when she would have to be
as any other house-mistress, and his the less :
judged by their words and fettered by their
ways. Then life would no longer be so free
and so loving as it was to the wood-biders.

But when the spring flowers were all gone
and the nights were sultry and dark again, she
wept no more: for she had new company: a
little thing that reached out its hands to
her from the bundle of furs where it lay,
and that made such quaint faces as were a
wonder and a lasting gazing-stock. There
was time now for nothing but to watch it,
and fondle it, and feed it : and if at first the
island was a sweet home to her, now it was
more lovely than ever, to be there with her
big man, and her little man, and none to let
or hinder.

After a while they made a great journey
over the fells, and came to Duddon side
again, to the strange old priest, that he might
christen the child. They called it Swein after
Thorstein's father, as in duty bound, though
the priest halted somewhat at the name, so
outlandish and unchristian as it seemed to his
way of thinking. However he blessed the
child, and bade it prosper, and they took their
way home without mishap: and the journey
gave them talk for many a day to follow.

So they won through the second winter,

with never a thought of wearying either of

one another or of their home. Now they

cleared a little thwaite of land over against the

268

4Wf x) S Vi\? Sfc^\-ATK

OT/iTo>i N ^ " v

filtoBi x Sm.v

R&infcaeh on the

island, and kept a goat or two, and sowed a
patch of oats, so that their porridge-stuff need
not be so far to seek, and milk for the barn
should be plenty. And the summer went by
in game and glee, and they had no fears for the
winter.

For a Yule-gift they got another guestling,
whom they carried in a while to the priest,
tripping through the woods with him in his
mother's arms, and the sturdy Swein on his
father's shoulder. They called the baby Thor-
stein : and when they saw him and his brother
wax and thrive, they laughed a bit sometimes
to think of the day when they should take
their piglings that Unna had foretold, to show
the grandame at Greenodd.

Yet with all this well-being there was some-
what wrong. What with his own labour and
his strong friends, Thorstein got all he wanted
for bed or board : and with a sweet wife and
bonny barns he was set up with the best of
company. Over and above which, he knew in
his heart that he was now no outcast of holy
church, though seldom he saw priest or heard
those words of life he had stumbled at long
since. Nowadays, what talks he had with
Raineach, and reasonings of unknown things,
piecing together his scraps of learning with
hers, as an old wife plans patchwork : for all
the bits must fit into the pattern, whether or
no they matched.

And some bits would not fit, such words as
told folk to be at one among themselves, and
270

that promised peace between mankind. There
was he, out of law and no man's neighbour.
Peace with God his heart told him he had ;
but peace with man was still far to seek : and
if all he had done, and all his friends had
done, gave him not that peace, how could
God command it ? how would God provide it ?
And being no dreamer, but a man with his
eyes open, he knew right well that, if to-day
was fair, to-morrow might be foul. So far
his foes had given him a wide berth; but
says he "When I am gone, who will take my
lads by the hand, and give them their place
among their fellows, and assure them land and
living?"

" Heed it not," Raineach would answer.
"Are not they as well as thou in God's
hand?"

"Who heeds it?" he would say. "Not I.
And yet!"

" Oh man, speak fair and be thankful."
" I do speak fair, and I am thankful," said
he: "and yet!"

UT what about Asdis, all this CHAPTER
while ? She was never the XLVI.
worse off, whatever happened. UNBIDDEN
tShe was too wise to spoil her GUESTS.
'looks with weeping, and too
pretty to sit long at Asmundar-
lea waiting for a new husband. She lighted
on her feet, like a cat, wherever she fell: and
before many months was purring by another
fireside, with the cream of the milk to lap.

271

But as she blinked in the fireglow, she was
only watching her mouse.

The land was not so bare of people as it
had been twenty winters since. Bit by bit, as
the days went on, the dales were cleared and
inhabited. From the low country one after
another went up to take land among the fells.
For the Northmen could never abide close
quarters. They hated towns, and loved a free
life : a spot to themselves, with elbow-room ;
a seat on a howe overlooking broad fields and
fell-pastures, with the smoke of the next
neighbour's hall rising far away through the
green wood. It was one thing to have good
friends within hail and call, but another to be
thrust among folk in one of those stinking
swine-styes, said they, where the Saxons
herded. And so their biggings crept up from
the shore of Leven and Duddon, and from
nook to nook the house-reek rose, like bale-fires
lighted to tell the world that this Lakeland
was the land-take of the Northmen.

Therefore all the coming and going of Thor-
stein could not fail to be spied, and the tale
sped from mouth to mouth, time and again,
and lost little in its travels. In a while it
came to dame Asdis, where she sat with black
anger in her heart against Thorstein, and
against the wild she-wolf of the fells who had
stolen him out of her arms. And in all this
she blamed herself never one whit, and folk
came to look on her as a fair woman with
great wrongs to avenge.
272

In a time of quiet, when ill men are aweary
of peace, and stirring men hanker after the
adventures of old days, no great work was
needed to egg on rough fellows to the job she
had on hand. A gang of lads and louts was
drawn together, and some silly vow got out of
them that they would rid the land of the
wood-biders: and all as if it had been some
great deed.

Now the island was but very little known to
the North-folk at the back of the fells ; but one
thing they knew, and this was that they could
not come at it without boats : and if they
stayed boat-building they would be spied and
foreset. But said Asdis, "Wait until the apple
drops. Why build a boat to cross a bridge ? "
At which they gaped, but she bade them watch
the birds and the bushes.

For that third winter began to be a hard
winter. The swallows went early, and the
wild swans came in flocks from the north.
Choups and holly-berries reddened the hedges ;
and after Yule the fells were creamed over and
the becks dwindled. As the days lengthened
so the cold strengthened, until even the sunny
shores of Leven and Duddon were frozen fast ;
and when a high tide came, it burst the floe,
and left the sands and mosses strewn for many
a mile with huge blocks and tables of ice, piled
one upon another like peats to dry. Then
Asdis rubbed her hands and said, " Now, lads,
your bridge will be built."

So they set out and away through the snowy

KK 273

woods until they came to the waterside of
Thurston-mere ; and there was a sight. Still
as death the white fells stood around. Still as
death the lake spread, white and black ; white
where the snow hid it, and black in great
reaches that could hardly be known from
standing water, but that its soft ripples stirred
not, and the picture of wood and fell lay upon
them clearer and quieter than the shapes in a
tarn on a summer day, for all the north-wind's
blowing. The only thing that moved was a
wreath of smoke on the fell-side over against
them, and the likeness of the same wreath in
the glassy field below. And where the two
wreaths met was a crag, standing up from the
flat ; an island no longer.

They adventured from the snowy shore,
hardly knowing when they were on land and
when on lake, until suddenly, beneath their
feet, deep down, they saw the stones lying at
the bottom, clear in the sunlight, through the
wonderful floor, such as the floor of Heaven
may be to them that walk upon it, and look
down upon us thence. Slowly now and warily
the men went, for the ice was smooth and
slape; and if it was roughened at all, it was
not with waves, but as if stars and arrow-heads
of crystal had been inlaid in glass, like the
silver a smith inlays in steel.

Then as they walked there arose a strange

turmoil in the stillness. Far and wide the ice

began to crack and settle, with groanings and

thunderings that roared and muttered from

274

shore to shore. Across the black, clear deep
there flew white, ragged lightnings, on either
hand, before and behind, as when one watches
a thunderstorm in the valley beneath a lofty
mountain. Then a great crack flitted scream-
ing right under their feet, and half the
company turned and scattered, crying out
there was witch-work in it, and they were
lost. But as they staggered and slid and fell
others cursed them for fools, and kicked them
up again, and egged them on ; showing them
how to set feet together and shove themselves
along with their spears thrust hard behind
them upon the ice. And so they won a mile
or so to the island.

But before they were half way over, the
smoke shot up into a thick cloud, and flames
flickered ; and over the waste of white and
black, above the moaning and groaning of the
ice field, arose the deep note of a horn, stifled
and quivering at first, and strengthening into
a hollow peal, that suddenly stayed. As
suddenly it was answered from the fell; and
then again from the Beacon hill behind ; and
then again far down the valley; and then
again far up the lake ; until the sky was
ringing with it. They stood in amaze to
listen; and the flame blazed higher, and the
smoke rolled in coils, brown against the white
moorland. Again the war-horn pealed, and
the answers came ; and when the last had died
away, another answer, over and above the
echoes, a faint clang, far down the Crake.

275

And then there was only the groaning of the
ice to hear; and the island, when they came
to it, was nothing but a snowy rock, un-
tenanted, for aught they could see, and lifeless,
but for the great fire.

All round the brink the slape ice shelved
away, by the settling of the lake, so that
footing was bad to get. The rock went down
sheer into the smooth floor, grey and bare
beneath and heaped with pillowy snow above,
from which hung fringes of icicles, like teeth of
a dragon in northern deeps. They scrambled
up the shelving slide, and grasped at the rocks
to break away the icicles and beat down the
snow, for hand-hold and foot-hold. But as
they strove up the lower rocks, half smothered
with the mealy drift, two heads came out upon
the top of the crag, and two great stones rolled
among them. And those they fell upon cried
but once.

Then began a storm of stones from above,
to which they could make no reply, for the
defenders were hidden behind the highest
ridge, and safe from shot. Even if the
attackers could make a shift to use bow and
dart, and that they could seldom in their
eagerness to win upward, and in their un-
steady footing, their weapons only rattled
down among them again from the icebound
rock. And so this went on for a while, until
many had been maimed, and some killed
outright. The nearer they got, the steeper
and more dangerous were the battlements of
276

that castle built without hands : a long wall,
high enough and steep enough to be difficult
any day, but hopeless in this snow and frost,
with the great stones plunging down, well
aimed from above.

They drew off to the open and held council.
In a while they broke into two bands, and
went round the island to try for scaling spots,
and to break in on both hands at once. Now
the ends of the island are less brant than its
sides, for there is a way up between the ridges,
both to north and south. But nobody who
meant to hold the place would fail to stop
those doors with some stockading at least, if
not a good stone wall : and so they were
brought to a standstill here as heretofore.
The north end was not only well blocked, but
the rocks there are stiff and steep for this
work; and of the two defenders one followed
each company round about, never leaving them
alone, what with stones, what with hand-strokes
when they tried the wooden palings. And if
fire was hot within the hold, it was all frost
without, and never a spark to set the doors
alight.

So now they met together at the south end,
where the twin harbour lies between the calf
and the crag. They began to swarm up a
buttress that makes a narrow ladder to the
top, easy enough to climb if it were not for the
ice that sheeted it, and for the rough welcome
that awaited the first man on the sharp and
perilous crest. By this the far-away fells

277

stood rosy red and dim around; the sky was
like fire behind Beacon fell, and the cold floor
of ice seemed to be all one lake of blood. The
bale on the crag reeked and roared, and out of
the smoke came a sword that lopped the first
comer like a bough, and sent him rolling down
the unbroken rock for many an ell. Then they
were aware of the wood-biders standing over
them, each with a weapon. They took heart
and shuffled up the harder, shouting curses,
and what they would do when they won to the
top. But the next comer rolled into the bay
with his brains knocked out. That was the
doing of a big stick that swung round and
about in the hands of Raineach.

" Well done, lass," shouted Thorstein, who
kept his distance from her, however. " It's
not for nothing she's a giant's daughter," he
laughed, for he was warming to the work.

But then the children waked behind them,
stirred by the noise ; and they screamed.
Raineach was scared lest some of the rascals
had got in the back way, and she flew to seek
them. The carles below set up a jeer, and
three or four flung in at once. One was down,
and another was down ; but Thorstein's sword
bent ; and as he kneeled on it to straighten it,
the others were at him. They had him on his
back, and a stroke would have done their job;
but out came Raineach with such a swingeing
batt of her club on the one of them, as broke
his backbone like a rotten stick ; and she
gripped the other by the throat and hauled
278

him off. She lugged and tugged, and fairly
lifted him off his feet, and bundled him over
the edge among his fellows. Up springs
Thorstein with a great shout, and she beside
him ; and every mother's son that could stir
a limb scattered off the edge in a flock. The
weight of them all coming down together broke
the ice where it was rotten from the warmth of
the flat rock, that caught and kept the morning
sun; and they went into the hole like corn
into the miller's hopper. It was deep there :
the rock goes down at once into the lake, and
rises again in ugly teeth, bound to cut a
swimmer's knees, let alone the edges of the
broken ice. He with the lopped arm, their
leader in the assault, after a few wild strokes
went down in a red spot. The rest struggled
out, to the nearest shore, and shouted them-
selves hoarse with their anger.

Thorstein and Raineach went up to look
at the man whose back was broken. He
cried for water, and she gave him to drink.
Thorstein stood over him, fierce and stern.

"Who sent thee, man?" he said.

But they got nothing out of him, and in
a while he died.

And then, when all was over, Raineach
burst into a blurt of weeping. "What, lass!
what, lass!" said Thorstein, as she shook and
sobbed in his arms; "hold up, my little one;
all's right now. I warrant we see no more of
them. There's not a scratch on thee, and I
am none the worse but for a bruise or two.

279

What's there to greet for?"

" It's not that," she sobbed.

"Here, then; take the barn: hark how he is
crying on his mother." Then as the sobs
shook her, and the baby at her breast, said
Thorstein, staring at them, and biting a twig,
" Eh, queer things women are. Aye, and,"
says he, " there's women and women."

And so Asdis goes out of the story.

When the stars were shining, they had
more guests, not unbidden, though late to the
play.

" Kinsman," said Hundi, as he panted and
caught his breath, between draughts of milk
in the cot on the island ; " Kinsman, no more
of this. To the Althing thou goest this
mid-summer, if I drag thee yonder by the
scruff of the neck." And "Aye, goes he,"
said the half score of men that had come
hot-foot from Lowick.

" Never saw I woman more scared than
Halldora when thy horn sounded."

" Scared was she," said one of them: "but
for a scare, oh boys, the master capped all.
Snail? says I, as I peltered after him. Hare!
says I, Hundi Harefoot's the word!"

Hundi caught him by the hand, laughing.
"A forfeit," he cried, "to fasten the name!
But Thorstein, my man, get thy peace, and let
us share it. Life is not worth living, with
this horn-blowing to look for."

So when mid-summer was come, Thorstein
set forth alone, sorely as Raineach grudged his

280

leaving her. She said it was for no good he

was going. But he kissed her, and said she

should be mistress of Blawith before the

summer was out. "That may be," she said,

"but never so happy as here."

'HORSTEIN travelled over the CHAPTER
tells to the waterhead of the XLVIL THE
great lake we call Windermere, HOST OF
meaning to stay there for the WEIRD.
night, and so to come upon the
Althing when folk were at their

meeting about mid-day. But when he was at

the door of the Welshmen's cots, in that old

ruin of the Romans, there was a great noise

within ; and he spied a many Northmen sitting

there at drink, and among them some faces he

knew and misliked. They too were on their

way to Legburthwaite : and no sooner did he

darken the door but they leapt up and ran at

him. He had no mind to redden his hands

with them, just when he was going to sue for

his peace : and away he went, out of the great

road and into the woods again.
This was a part he knew but little, and yet

he found a track that led him up a steep dell

and over a hause where was a wonderful big

stone, like a kirk, by the way side, with high

fells running up on either hand. Before him

lay the great deep valley, reaching away

northward, and all its forests and crags purple

and golden in the summer afternoon. Here

and there was a gleam of water ; and far in

the distance, smoke rising as if from the houses

LL 28l

of men. The path led onward and downward,
rough and steep. He followed it for a good
while, and came to a tarn which afterwards
the Northmen called Brotherwater, from the
ancient road that passed by. Then he was on
the floor of the valley, with the steep heights
all around and above : and it was but an hour
or so to the village of Patrickdale.

This was another of those few spots in the
fell country where people were found before the
Northmen came into Lakeland. The dwellers
were mostly like the rougher sort of fell-folk,
and their cots were of the poorest, scattered,
and buried in wood. And yet they had a
church in their midst, if it were no more than
a cell; where a kind of hermit priest lived,
and in the one little chamber slept upon the
ground, and ate his crust, and performed the
holy service, with nothing but a rough stone
for his altar and another for his pillow.

Thorstein sat down weary and hungered
at the church door, and knocked upon it.
Presently in the quiet village there was a
barking of dogs that echoed from crag to crag
around: and then the church door opened,
and the priest came out with a thumping big
stick upheld in one hand, while he unbarred
the iron-hasped door with the other.

Thorstein bade him have peace, for it was a
Christian and a wayfarer who begged for alms.
He spoke in the fell-folk's tongue, reckoning
that whether the priest were English or Irish
he must speak so in his cracks with the
282

country-folk hereabouts. So the priest let him
into the church and from an ark brought out
a bowl of sour milk and a cake of rye bread.

"Maybe now," said Thorstein, "this is all
thou hast."

" All I have here," said the priest. " But
there are good neighbours."

So Thorstein drank the milk at a draught,
and ate the cake in two mouthfuls.

" I am no stranger in these parts," said he,
" but I never was here before."

"Like enough not," said the priest. "We
call this St. Patrick's church, for on this spot
many a lifetime back the glorious and blessed
Patrick preached: and in the well hard by
christened both men and women that heard
him. And here in this desert, unworthy as I
am, I strive to keep the lamp alight, as those
that watch for their Lord."

They talked together awhile, for the priest
seemed right glad of a friendly face other than
those of his rough flock, goats he called them,
" for lambs they be not indeed, but very
mountain goats. And yet God forgive me
for saying an ill word of them," added he:
"for I mind me of the days when I was in
the world. There was as much hardness of
heart and stiffneckedness among our townsfolk
yonder at Dacor "

But now there was a noise without, and the
dogs barking again. More than that, eager
voices. Out stepped the priest to hear what
the news might be, bidding Thorstein stay

283

where he was, or he would not answer for
him.

There was a couple of men, fighting-men
of Domhnaill's they seemed by their weapons;
but no great champions, by their faces.
Around them a knot of rough villagers, half
clothed in skins, and shaggy-headed, with
staves in their hands. They all talked long
and loud. Thorstein could just hear some-
thing about an army and flight and slaughter;
but he deemed it wise to do as the priest bade
him, lest he should be mis-kenned and mauled
by that rabble.

" Lord help us," said the priest coming back
into the church: "God and all blessed Saints
protect us. Ill tidings, young man. Awful
tidings. But as the mountains stand round
about Jerusalem, even so the Lord stands
round us who fear him."

Then between prayers and sighs he told the
news. These were two men of the dale who
had gone to fight in DomhnailPs army, called
out but lately. It seemed that Eadmund the
English king had been warring in the North
against Dornhnaill's people in Strathclyde, and
against the vikings in Galloway: and having
wasted far and wide, he was entered into
Cumberland where Domhnaill, though he had
fled from place to place, thought to make
another stand: and so had called out every
man he could levy. But still he got the worst
of it, and fled before the Saxons: and no
wonder, for with the Saxons there were

384

Malcolm king of Scots and a host of his, and
Llewelyn of Wales with his men, a terrible
great multitude. Last night they lay at
Penrith, and Domhnaill was pressing his men
forward towards the fell-country, hoping either
to escape into the mountain fastnesses, or to
entangle his enemies in some strait pass
among rocks and swamps, and so destroy
them. But, before these men fled from his
army, it had been given out that he aimed at
the mountain road to the city of Helvellyn.

" What," cried Thorstein, " beside our
Northmen's meeting place? Aye, father,
though I am Christian, I am a Northman born,
and neither Dane nor Saxon. Tell me, oh
man, tell me how I may come to them and
give them warning. Is there a way over yon
crags? It cannot be far: and yet the rocks
stand up like walls of heaven."

The priest took him to the door and pointed
out a deep dale that runs up into the fells :
Grizedale we call it now. When he was at
the head of that dale he would find a tarn :
then he was to take the valley to his right
hand, and it would bring him to the hause
above the city of Helvellyn. " But," said he,
" it is trackless forest : none rougher in our
mountains. And it teems with wild swine.
If it were for a boar-hunt with a party of stout
fellows, no place could be fitter. But for a
lone traveller, at speed, and a stranger, I
doubt the end of the journey might be nearer
than its goal."

285

" Path or no path, boars or bears," cried
Thorstein running back into the church for
his weapons, " I must try it and that hastily."

"Stay," said the priest. "There is another
way, if thou canst climb the rocks like a wild
cat, and keep a cool head while the eagles
scream around thee. I know this only by
report : but men have climbed above the woods
where all is open grass or naked rock, and so
across over Helvellyn. They say it is a fearful
place : no otherwise than when one mounts a
ladder against a castle-wall: but that this is
terrible in its loftiness and horror beyond any
high tower or deep sea-crag. And the night is
at hand."

"The night," said Thorstein, "is fair, and
never wholly dark at this season. As for crags
and the dangers of the fells, I have fared
through a many before now. Point me out
the way, father."

It was the clear gloaming of summer mid-
night when he had forced his way through the
woods that clothed the valley side, and that
crept up the crags like moss on a stone. He
was on Striding-edge : forest and fell around
him were black, a tossing surge of darkness ;
in which gleamed ugly and strange the great
lake, that reached away into distance of slaty
gloom. On the ridge there was light from the
north, a brown light, no more than enough
to see footing and hand-hold. But when his
foot slipped, and a great stone rolled from
under it, there was a crash and a roar that
286

raised the echoes all round the cove, as the
stone whirled and leapt towards the round tarn
that he could hardly discern in the blackness,
how far below he could not reckon. And on
the other hand it was no less steep. Pinnacles
of rock stood up along the abyss, and in

front a great mass, a wall it seemed in the
uncertain gloom, unapproachable. With the
falling stones the eagles were roused, and
sailed screaming about him : so that he clung
to the ridge, and drew his sword.

Then he came to a place where the rock fell
away into darkness: and he sat doubting the
priest's guidance, and scanning the black wall
that rose over-head before him : for he was
weary by now and began to be faint with
hunger. He cast overboard his shield that he

287

had carried so far, and it fell down the rock but
a little way, and then caught. He followed it
and found it, and then scrambled up the wall ;
which turned out to be no more than a scree-
slope, though it was one of the stiffest.

From Helvellyn top he saw the arch of
light in the north again, sunset and dawn in
one, streaked with black bars of cloud. But
underneath them, strong against the meshes
of faint daffodil colour, and the lowest band of
dusky red, stood out the lines of Skiddaw and
Blencathra, the shapes he knew right well of
old, and welcomed joyfully. He ran along the
brown and rounded grassy summit, forgetting
his weariness, until Thirlmere gleamed beneath
him, the winding lake with its steep shores,
and the crags where he had first met Aluinn
and Domhnaill. Then, how high that mountain
eyrie of theirs had seemed : but now it was
nought but a heave in the dark land that was
spread out before him like an embroidered
garment cast upon the floor.

Then, as he went forward, wary of the
swamps that lie among the grass of those
great mountain-backs, he saw a man come up
on the moorland, but from some point farther
north ; and run, as he had run, across toward
Thirlmere. " He will be another of the fleers,"
said Thorstein to himself. " He is bound for
the Northmen's camp, like me." And he
shouted, and tried to overtake him, but in
vain. Then came up two or three others :
they were dimly seen and grey in that twilight :
288

but he could make them out enough to know
that they carried weapons, and fled in haste.
He shouted again; but no answer. Then more
followed : and he could see that among the
newcomers were pursuers as well as pursued:
and now one fell, and was killed outright before
his eyes. But there was no sound of shouting:
and as he ran toward them he seemed to come
no nearer, whether it was that the twilight
put him out of his reckoning, or what. And
then came a flock of men marching forward
with banner and spear, aye, and horses
among them, and chariots, on the bare moun-
tain-top, with pathless crags behind and in
front, where no army could have marched in
order, nor waggon have gone upon wheels.
But still they crossed over, a very great
multitude, under the broken light that held his
eyes fixed to northward. He stayed running,
and listened. The waterfalls roared beneath :
but not a sound was there of living men ;
neither tramp nor shout : and still they passed.
Terror was upon him now, and his knees
shook. He looked behind him, and out of
the deep blackness a few great stars shone,
and around was the moorland with its strange
forms, and he knew not what else, crowding
upon him. With a cry he fled down the grassy
slope. It fell away steeper and steeper. He
stumbled among the hidden stones: but he
could not stay his feet ; and down he rolled
from rock to rock, into the thunder of Hel-
vellyn gill.

MM 289

CHAPTER
XLVIII. THE
STORM OF
THE LAW-
BURG.

T Legburthwaite the morning
was wild. The wind had risen
in the night and brought rain.
The clouds were low, raking
along the fell sides, and one
could hardly see the crags
across the valley for greyness.

The Althing was not yet hallowed, for the
Northmen were not met together. Some early
comers had arrived and spent the night in their
booths, rough hut-walls, unroofed, put up of
old to serve for lodging at these summer
meetings, and covered, when the time was,
with tent-cloths cast over them. A group of
elder men sat talking in the rain : others were
setting up the bounds of the doom-ring, driving
in the posts with pick and mallet, and cutting
hazel poles in the copse hard by, to lay across
from stake to stake. Others were repairing
the winter's damage to the turf seats within
the ring, where the chiefs and the jurymen
were to sit.

Down from Helvellyn side, through the
driving rain, crept a battered man, slowly
working his way among the boulders of the
slope. He dragged himself up to the group
of elders, and they saw that he was newly
wounded, and foredone with toil and travel.

Then said one, "This is Thorstein Sweinson
of the Mere : he that slew his brother. Away,
fellow: the place is not hallowed yet; there is
no peace to be got now for such as thee."
Said another, "Let be: the wood-bider is
290

not here for nought, and maybe has a story
to tell."

But he gaped upon them and could not
speak. So they gave him to drink.

"Thanks, friend," he said. "Neighbours,
do with me as you will, but hear me. Domh-
naill is fleeing before the Saxons. He is upon
us even now. Last night I saw two of his
men : they had fled to their home in the fells.
They said that Eadmund the English king was
at DomhnaiU's heels, and with him Malcolm
the Scot and Llewelyn of Wales with a great
multitude. Domhnaill was for leading them
hither, to entrap them if he could ; or to escape
into the mountains. I have fled night-long
over yon high fells to bring the news. And
I have seen them. On the top of the
mountains I saw the hosts pursuing and
pursued. Whether it was a vision I cannot
tell: but the tidings are truth."

" Here be fine dreams," said the first speaker,
"and mid-summer madness."

" Dreams or no dreams, the man is spent
with travel and battered, and he gives his
head into our hands for the sake of the
tidings. We shall soon see whether they be
true. Meanwhile, my lad, come into my
booth and be fed."

Thorstein had hardly brought hand to
mouth, when there was a stir without, and
the foremost flyers of DomhnaiU's army came
by. They were the guard of the king's wife
and children, and a troop of pack-horses with

291

them, heavily laden, maybe with treasure.
They made no stay, but for a hasty word,
and away toward the city of Helvellyn.

The Northmen, taking short counsel to-
gether, agreed to draw out of their booths,
and to make a stand upon the Thingmount,
and so abide what might happen. Why they
should thus meddle, when they might have
escaped with the foremost flyers, or easily
hidden in the woods, who can say? except
that they were bred fighting-men, and thought
scorn to leave their own Thing-stead without
so much as a stroke.

So there in battle array they stood, on their
mound where the four dales met, and the
great crags around. Over against them the
path crept by the skirts of the fells ; on this
side the Greta and on that Helvellyn beck:
and the clouds flying low, and the rain driving.

Out of the mist came the flyers, horse
galloping and foot running; whoever was sound
and unwounded outpacing his fellows, as they
streamed up the road and into the mist again.
Then came the wearied men, some of them
wounded and some scant of breath and half
blind with toil and with watching under arms,
pushing and pressing along the narrow path;
here and there one falling with a groan, and
kicked out of the way into the river, or
screaming as the horses stamped the life out
of him. And so they swept past, while the
Northmen cried to them across the dale to
turn and stand by their friends.
292

Then there was a pause, and the sound of
the pursuers shouting along the vale of St.
John; and presently their van-guard was seen
pressing along the road, Welsh they were of
Llewelyn's company, to whom the foremost
place had been given in this enterprise because
they were mountain men, and led where the
Lowlanders, with all the fire of the chase,
sometimes held back from following.

When they came to the place where they
could see the Northmen in array on the howe,
they were brought to a standstill: and fresh
comers behind them crowded at their rear,
like the wreckage of a streaming flood, when
one great bough is held fast at a force-head.
Then they crossed the flat field, and stood on
the bank of Helvellyn beck, and cried to the
Northmen to come down and yield themselves.
But the Northmen shouted in answer, and gave
them a flight of spears : and when spears were
spent, stones and the turf of the Thing seats,
and everything that was handy. Soon the
Welshmen, seeing how few they had to deal
with, and how many of their own men had
come up by this time, took heart, and rushed
up the bank shoulder to shoulder. But along
the bank top it was shield to shield, and a line
of whirling blades: and down the wave rolled
again.

By this time the main army was coming
up, and the cry was for bowmen. For in those
days it was not as it was in later times, when
every English foot-soldier carried his long-bow.

293

Spear to throw and axe to hew with, were
their main weapons. The Welsh stood aside,
and a file of archers passed through the host,
and formed in a line on the Thing-field, while
the rest ransacked the booths. Together the
bowmen drew their bows, and at a shout of
command to let fly, the Northmen fell flat
under their shields, and the flight of arrows
hurtled over them.

But while this was going forward, behind the
line of archers other companies crept this way
and that ; and through the cover of the wood
on Great Howe other bowmen climbed up to
take advantage of the higher ground, and to
get the Northmen below them. And soon
there was a rattling on shield and helm and
coat of mail. When the enemy saw that they
were beginning to be discomfited, spears were
levelled, and up they rushed in a thick throng
on all sides at once, man pressing man from
behind, so that there was no turning nor
fleeing. Down went the first comers all round
the line of red blades: but the shield that
Thorstein had carried, and lost, and saved
again, was burst through, and a broken shaft
left in it, and the strap was riven. He took it
in both hands and hurled it edgewise: and
shouted when it caught a big fellow in the
teeth and drove him backwards into the thick
of the crowd below.

" Well thrown, wood-bider," said his next
neighbour. "I'll be thy shield-man this holm-
gang:" as he caught a stroke on his target,
294

and Thorstein leapt out from behind him and
cut down the man who had given it. So it
was hand to hand and sword to spear for a
while, over the ring of fallen bodies. But the
Northmen shook them off, and thrust them
down the brink again.

Then one upon the Thing-stead began to
sing, and then another, in staves of verse that
seemed to set their fellows' hearts on fire.
They shouted at their foes, giving them every
ill name and stinging jest that might prick
them to a new attack. But the only answer
was the hail of arrows from above : and if the
rain washed the Northmen white, there was
red enough running to need it. Hardly one
among them but had some hurt. Thorstein,
who was no whole man to start with, and ill
clad for this play, was the worse for more than
a scratch.

"Neighbours," said he, "why are we stand-
ing still to be shot down like deer ? "

Then forth he leapt, and down the slope,
hewing right and left, and leaving a lane
through the crowd. His friends followed close
in a band, and the enemy drew back before
them, and closed behind them. The Northmen
were like a wild beast in a net.

" Look you there," said Thorstein, holding
out a bladeless hilt: "was ever such rotten
iron?"

" It has done a day's work," said his friend
with the shield.

" Nay, not a forenoon's."

295

CHAPTER
XLIX.
DUNMAIL
RAISE.

Me sat down upon a stone, JHis friend took
him under the shoulder to lift him on. " We
shall win through yet," said he.

But Thorstein fell over on the red grass.
" Let be," said the elder who had known
him at the first. "He has got his peace.
Forward all!"

ING Eadmund stood upon the
brink of Thirlmere, and scanned
the shore on either side. His
enemies had vanished as if by
art magic. There lay the path,
running down to the ford, and
up again on the farther side, and it could be
traced winding under the terrible crags whose
tops were lost in clouds, and away into huge
headlands and shaggy promontories plunging
into the water, one beyond another, until they
faded afar in the rain and mist.

On this hand king Malcolm, and on that
hand king Llewelyn, were instant to go forward
and follow the road: but the Lowland king,
brave as he was in fight and bold in counsel,
hung back from the attempt and from following
unseen foes into unknown fastnesses.

While they talked, across the wath came
two or three men, gaunt and red-bearded and
clothed in skins. They waved their hands
above their heads as if to signify that they
came in peace : and the king bade bring them
before him. At their first words, " King,"
said Malcolm, "these are folk of mine, or
should be: for it it is our tongue they have.
296

Let me be interpreter."

Then the fell-folk told the kings that Domh-
naill and his men were lurking in the woods,
ready to roll rocks upon their enemies. But
they could show the Saxons how to get the
better of the ambush.

Asked by what device, they said that fell-
climbers could reach the top of the brow under
which Domhnaill lay ; and once there, a few
men could roll rocks on him as he had meant
to roll rocks upon the Saxons: and then the
main army could pursue them along the road,
which was no worse than that by which they
had come.

" And a good counsel it is, king," said
Malcolm, when he had interpreted: "and one
that we use often in our mountain warfare.
Give the business into my hand, and you shall
see them swarm out of the woods like ants out
of a stirred anthill."

" But what faith can we put in the word of
these savages?" asked Eadmund.

They said proudly that it was so as they had
spoken, and they were in the hand of the kings
to reward or to slay. "And beside that," said
one of them with a scowl, " we have an old
grudge of our own to settle with Domhnaill."

So the army moved over the wath, and the
main body halted on the road, ready for the
chase when the game was beaten out of cover.
Malcolm with a band of mountain men, guided
by the red folk, climbed the brow of Armboth
fell: and when they were at the top, set to

NN 297

work heaving rocks over the edge. There
was a crashing among trees, and shouts and
shrieks; and presently men were beheld fleeing
down the screes among the woods, and the
great stones whirling down after them. Such
as got away, streamed out into the road, and
fled along it up and down, like worms out of a
dunghill when it is beaten to get baits. Then
the trumpets were blown that should signal to
the men above to leave their work : and forth
marched the army in hot pursuit, along the
path and along the low foreshore of the lake,
and then mounting over the crags where they
were high, and descending again among rocks,
and cliffs, and wild wood, that overhung the
length of the lake. And at last they looked
down upon the city of Helvellyn.

Here for a while they were brought to a stand :
the walls of great stones, and the swampy
flats on one side of it, threatened to hold them
longe'r than they liked. The day was wearing,
and if the nut were cracked the kernel was not
eaten yet. So they took up their stand on the
high ground between the city and the fell, and
the trumpets sounded an assault.

Then was there shouting, and a terrible cry
that rose to Helvellyn top, as the Saxons
clambered up the rugged wall in throngs, and
leapt over, bearing down the defenders and
slaughtering all before them. DomhnailPs
wife and his two children were taken; but
for the rest it was kill and slay, as men
ransacked the rude cots within the walls for
298

their enemies, and hewed them down where
they found them.

But while all this was going forward, a band
of men was spied making away along the fell
side. They had escaped by the farther gate and
along the road ; and the freshest of the Saxons
who were still outside the walls, and the fleetest
of their horsemen, were sent in pursuit. But
the road was rugged and difficult as ever, and
if they came up with one party, and brought
it to bay, it was but to waste time, and the
rest had the better start of them. And so the
battle went on, at every beck to be forded,
and every rock to be passed: and especially
where the great tongue of land at the foot of
Steel fell stands across the valley, like a twin
wall of huge earth-works cast up by giants
long ago.

The foremost of the flyers was Domhnaill
himself, running for dear life up the long slope
of the pass. He was alone now, and on foot.
One horse after another had fallen under him,
and of all the army he had led out to its ruin
not one was there to stand by him. This man
had come between him and the spear that
threatened him : that one had turned back to
keep the hunters in play. They were gone
now: but he was still a king, if the crown on
his helmet could make him one. And he
bethought him of hiding among the moors
and rocks, anywhere, like a wild beast: and
he peered this way and that through the rain
as he ran, with none following, escaped, he

299

hoped, at last. He neared the brow of the
hill : soon it would be down-bank and away;
surely some woodland dweller would harbour
him.

Under a hawthorn tree at the summit sat a
woman, with long golden hair lank in the rain,
and green gown wet, and clinging to her sides :
hard featured, and fierce she looked: strange,
as she rose and stood before him in the way.
He dashed at her blindly with his sword, but
she caught his hand; and as he stumbled at
her feet, the crown fell from his helmet,
clattering on the stones of the path. She
took it up, and weighed it in her hand.

"Domhnaill," she said, "it is mine at last,
then?"

"Oh, Aluinn," he cried, "save me, hide
me!"

She led him by a roaring stream and up a
steep narrow gill, away from the valley and
the shouts of the pursuers, aloft into the cloud.
It was but a step, and they came to a black
water, shoreless, beyond, for the rain-mist. As
he sank down, out-wearied, she flung the
golden thing into the dark tarn.

" It is safe, there," she said.

And there they say the crown of Cumbria
lies to this hour, in the depths of Grizedale
tarn.

Domhnaill passed away into the cloud and
was seen no more in these parts. Folk might
well believe him to be dead, or gone to fairy-
land. Whether his flight was spied by some
300

of the Northmen coming over Dunmail raise
toward the Althing which they never held, or
howsoever it might have been told, the place
kept his name, changed but a little in alien
mouths; and still haunted, they say, by the
fleeing king and the fairy maid flitting before
him.

CHAPTER ^fJKffiJp^^ERRIBLE was the tale they
L- THE B^i^SB brou g ht to Hougun about the

PEACE OF ip^^^istorm of the Lawburg and the
THORSTEIN gj l^l^lideath of Thorstein and his

fellows. Though indeed not
(all of them perished. Hopeless
as it seemed, some of that band had cut their
way through the Saxon army and escaped into
hiding among the rocks and woods on Brack-
mere bank: and some that had been left for
dead had been found by their friends when the
storm was over, and taken up and healed of
their wounds. But not Thorstein. He lay
where he fell, within a step of the spot where
he had slain his brother. They gave him his
peace, late as it was : for it was not too late to
let his children inherit the land he had taken
around Thurston water.

Hundi and Raud, Mani and the rest of
their kinsmen and neighbours came together
and rebuilt the homestead at Blawith, freely
giving their labour as the custom was; and
over and above their labour, each comer gave
a share toward the things that were needed to
keep house and farm. So that with what she
had and what she got, Raineach lacked neither
302

servants nor stock, furniture within nor gear
without.

They brought her from the island, and bade
her dwell in peace on the land that was hers
and her children's. Many a time came to her
one and another who would gladly have cast
in his lot with them for her sake : but she said
nay to all. After a while she sent for a priest,
and built him a church at Blawith, that she
might bring up her household in the right faith
and fear of God. And before Yule she was the
mother of a third son to Thorstein, whom she
called Gartnaidh after her father, for he was
red-haired and long limbed.

" Thorstein of the Mere will not want for
sons to avenge him," said folk, when they
came to see her.

"Nay," she said. "He has found his peace.
Let us keep it."

But a twelvemonth had not gone by after
the battle, and mid-summer was not yet
come, when they heard tidings of the death
of Eadmund in his own hall at a feast, by the
hands of an outlaw. The North-folk looked
at one another, as much as to say it was but
his due ; vengeance had come upon him already
for the strife he had stirred up, and especially
for the sackless and innocent men who had
fallen with Thorstein Sweinson in the war
upon Cumberland.

But the Northmen continued in their homes
by firth and fell, spite of York earls and Scottish
kings. For yet a hundred years and more

303

they kept their freedom. Their own laws
they made at their Althing, now in one spot,
now in another: shifted westward, maybe, to
Little Langdale after Thored's ravaging of
Westmorland, and southward after Ethelred's
harrying of Cumberland. Even when the
Normans had brought all this border country
under the feudal yoke, still for many a hundred
years the dalesmen, children of the vikings,
used to meet at the Steading-stone by Thirl-
mere wath, and kept alive some smouldering
memory of their birthright in the country
Penalties of Wythburn. And everywhere they
still have their old manners and their old
speech, changing little of either, and that but
slowly.

The Blawith house endured. Its children
lived long in the land. When they increased
so that Blawith was too small for them, across
the Crake they built a strong place, and called
it the New Burg, and the ground that it
stood in, Newburthwaite. Neighbours by-
named them the Redheads of Nibthwaite ;
maybe because they took after their kinsmen
of the fells. There they dwelt, a great family,
for many a generation, and thereabouts they
dwell even to this day. For in these dales the
dream of Unna came true, that saw love
abiding and labour continuing, heedless of
glory and fearless of death.

SO ENDS THE STORY OF THORSTEIN.
304

REMARKS ON THE NORSE SETTLEMENT:
TABLE OF THE CHRONOLOGY:
INDEX TO THE MAPS: &
NOTES TO THE STORY.

THE NORSE SETTLEMENT.

Popular attention was called to this subject about
forty years ago by Mr. Robert Ferguson, M.P., F.S.A.,
in his lecture and book on the Northmen in Cumberland
and Westmorland. Following out the suggestion of
the great Worsaae, he laid down the main lines of the
ethnological map, just as William Smith laid down the
main lines of English geology. In both cases the
details had still to be more accurately surveyed ; but,
in spite of much doubt and criticism, the hypothesis grew
into a theory, and the theory into an article of faith.
Mr. Freeman accepted it in his History of the Norman
Conquest (vol. I. app. FF.), and Chancellor Ferguson
has adopted it in his already standard Histories of
Cumberland and Westmorland. Various local anti-
quaries have added to the subject, especially in the
Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland
Antiquarian and Archaeological Society ; among which
may be named the papers of the Rev. T. Ellwood, M.A.,
comparing the language and customs of Lakeland and
Iceland; and the identification by Mr. H. Swainson
Cowper, F.S.A., of the Norse Thingstead in Little Lang-
dale. Mr. Ellwood's " Landnama-bok, as illustrating
the dialect, &c.," is published separately (T. Wilson,
Kendal, 1894).

Our antiquaries, however, have found us no Lakeland
Saga. The reason is simple. By the time when the
Sagas were written down, the Norman Conquest and the
feudal organisation of England had cut these Norse
colonists away from their kindred, and had begun to
assimilate them to the condition of the Saxon villeins ;
while the repeated inroads of the Scots in the i2th
Century made life insecure, and reduced civilisation in
the Fells to its lowest terms. Whatever songs and
stories of Viking ancestors were then current in the
mouths of the people found no scribe such as Ari the
learned, or Hall Gizurson. One would have thought
that in the abbeys of the district some native monk
might have noted them down, as the Icelandic folklore

307

was noted down at Flatey, and Helgafell. But the
great abbeys hereabouts were founded by aliens, and
their mental life had no room for local patriotism.
Jocelyn of Furness, our greatest literary figure in that
era, was busy with his Celtic legends of St. Patrick and
St. Kentigern ; at Calder and Holm Cultram it was work
enough to live, and old tales were nothing to the stir of
passing events. The saga-period went by ; and in
another couple of centuries, when the age of Border
ballads had set in, there were new themes in plenty to
sing about. The old legends were out of mind, except
for isolated traditions and surviving names.

And yet, even at this day, enough of these remain to
give us glimpses of the past. We can picture the life of
the Norse settlers from almost contemporary accounts of
Orkney and Iceland, checked and verified, in details in-
numerable, by the dialect and customs of the district.
Their arts, wood-carving and iron-work chiefly, we see
in the [old interwoven panel-patterns and spiral smith-
wares, that seem to show a permanence, through several
centuries, of the ancestral habit of mind. Their public
institutions we can infer from a comparison of the re-
maining Lawburgs here, with those elsewhere of which
there are records in the literature of the North. Their
attitude towards neighbouring peoples can be surmised
from general history, which now and then throws a light
into the darkness. Even the very names of the colonists
we can read in the map, at the places they seized and
settled.

And so to write this story of Thorstein of the Mere
the eponymus of our Thurston-water (Coniston Lake) is
only as it were to string afresh a handful of broken
beads from an opened cairn. There was a Thorstein's
saga, no doubt, once upon a time ; or at least ballads of
the giants on the fell, and the invasion of Eadmund.
" Thus sung, or would, or could, or should have sung "
the local skald. And there were old folk of the last
generation who would sit in the chimney-corner telling
tales of the past, fragmentary sagas, that had come down
308

from they knew not where, but fixed in form, and de-
livered with animation and with all the richness of the
rolling dialect. They were belated sagamen. They had
forgotten the Nor stories, but they kept the Norse
style. To put a Thorstein's saga into the mouth of an
old " Statesman " would strain truth but little, imagina-
tion not at all.

The belated Sagaman, however, needs a little editing.
As usual with his tribe, he assumes that you take his
allusions without explanation and his statements with-
out reference ; while with a laudable curiosity some
readers ask for more than he gives. To satisfy them,
and to justify him, the following pages are added.

CHRONOLOGY.

876. Danes from York under Halfdan take Carlisle (see
PP- 21, 55-)

880, or thereabouts, the first Norse settlements on
Solway and Morecambe after Harold's invasion
of the Irish Sea (pp. 33, 34.)

913. Ragnwald attacks the Isle of Man (p. 2.) Swein
comes to Greenodd (p. 3.)

916-918. Ragnwald king in Waterford (pp. 2, 25.)

920. Sigtrygg, driven from Dublin, invades Deira (p. 21.)

923. Ragnwald takes York (p. 25.) Eadward takes Man-
chester (p. 24.) Thorstein born (p. 3.)

524. Eadward fortifies Bakewell (p. 26.) The com-
mendation of Scotland and Strathclyde (p. 27.)

925. Eadward dies (p. 30.) Succeeded by Athelstan, who
marries his sister to Sigtrygg (p. 37.)

926. Great aurora about Easter time (p. 38.) Sigtrygg
dies (p. 39.) Athelstan takes York ; Sigtrygg's
sons escape (p. 40.) Peace of Dacre, July 12 (p-
56.) Eadulf expelled from Bamborough (p. 55.)

927. Guthferth and Olaf Cuaran take York, and are

expelled by Athelstan (p. 72,)
929 or 930, Althing established in Iceland (p. 76.)
930. Athelstan grants Amounderness to York (p. 73.)

309

93i- About this time or later Olaf Cuaran marries
Constantine's daughter (p. 74.)

932. Althing at Lcgburthwaite (p. 78.)

933. Constantine and Owain revolt ; Athelstan ravages

Scotland (p. 79.)

934. Thorstein finds Thurston-water, and is taken by the

Fell-folk (pp. 80-104.)

937. Great revolt of the North (pp. 113, 118.) Battle
of Brunanburh (pp. 134, 138, 147, 155.) Athelstan
founds St. Leonard's at York (p. 252.) Thorstein's
escape and return to Greenodd (pp. 134-167.)

938. Thorstein goes to sea (pp. 177, 180.) Thorstein
Codbiter drowned in Iceland (p. 184.) About this
time Eric Bloodaxe expelled from Norway by
Hakon (p. 186,) and set over York by Athelstan
(p. 192.)

939. Thorstein visits Iceland and Norway (pp. 184-192),
and winters in London (pp. 193-195.)

940. Thorstein comes home in autumn (p. 196.) Athelstan
dies October 25, succeeded by Eadmund (p. 203.)

941. Revolt in the North ; Eric expelled from York (p.
214.) Thorstein marries Asdis, June (p. 213.) Olaf
takes York (pp. 214-215.) Slaying of Orm and
Doordoom at Blawith (pp. 223-233.) Thorstein at
Cartmel during the winter (pp. 239-244.)

942. Thorstein at York (pp. 245-255.) Ofaf Guthferson
killed pp. 247, 255.) Thorstein marries Raineach
and settles on Peel Island, autumn (pp. 255-264.)

943. Swein Thorsteinson bom, August (p. 268.)

944. Thorstein Thorsteinson born, Christmas (p. 270.)

945. Attack on Peel Island, February (pp. 274-280.)

Eadmund ravages Galloway and Cumbria, ex-
pels Domhnaill, and grants the land to Mal-
colm (pp. 284, 295.) Death of Thorstein June
(p. 294).

946. Eadmund killed May 26 (p. 303.)
960. Thored ravages Westmorland (p. 304.)
975. Domhnaill dies at Rome.

1000. Ethelred ravages Cumberland (pp. 37, 304.)
310

THE MAPS (pp. 32 and 50) are in the last degree tenta-
tative, and offered only as graphic suggestions of the
state of the country in the tenth and eleventh centuries,
rather later than the actual period of the story.

The Roman roads must have been more or less prac-
ticable, and though in disrepair, like the ruined roads of
China, the only available lines of march for an army or
of travel for trade. In drawing them, Chancellor Ferguson
(Histories of Cumberland and Westmorland, and sketch
map in the Archaeological Survey, Archseologia, Vol.
LIII.) has been followed, with one or two expressions of
uncertainty. Near Thirlmere the old road on the
western bank has been traditionally considered as the
original track, via the Steading Stone, and the ford
with the so-called Celtic bridge ; all of which is now
destroyed. Some path thence to Threlkeld along the
vaie of St. John seems reasonable. The road from Sat-
terthwaite to Dalton is doubtful ; I have given alterna-
tive routes, after consultation with Mr. H. Swainson
Cowper, the district secretary of the Society of Antiqua-
ries and co-editor of the Survey. From the Thingstead
at Fellfoot some path must have been practicable south-
ward, and a study of the ground has suggested the
straight course to Coniston. Thence the mines' produce
went to Ambleside, West says ; but the name Greeta-
gate indicates a road from Duddon Sands to Broughton,
and towards Coniston, ancient, if not Roman.

As I have filled the maps with names I suppose I must
explain them. Those in capitals I take to be Celtic ; a
few such as Dacor, Penningtun, Stank, are Anglian and
pre-Norse. In Vidhborran, Glsesartun, Kilvestravegr,
Berrhofudsegg, may be Celtic loan-words which I have
elsewhere discussed (" Some Manx Names in Cumbria,"
Trans. C. & W. Ant. Soc.; and rendered as Wide-ruin,
Brook-town, Cell of the west road, and Road-head's edge.
Alinskalar, formerly Alinschales, now Elliscales, and
Alinthveit, formerly Allinthwaite, now Allithwaite, may
be connected with " Helen," the chapel of St. Helen
being near the former, the latter near a Holy-well, and

both on the Roman road; thus pointing to the patroness
of roads and wells in Yorkshire and Wales (see Elton,
" Origins," p. 322). The rest are simply old Norse
equivalents of the oldest known forms. In reading them
the old pronunciation must be given as far as possible.
Vigfusson and Powell (Icelandic Reader, p. 467,) give d
as in father (though Bass becomes "bowse," and asmun-
darlja becomes Osmotherley). Y short is like the French
u; i long like the German . The diphthongs an, ei,
ey, have the force of the component vowels. V is our
w ; j our y ; J? is sharp th (thing;) $ is flat th (the) or
dh. The terminal r of the nominative was dropped in
pronunciation. So read, many names are identical with
modern local forms; and few can be explained at all
except as survivals from the Norse.

Old Norse.

Mediczval.

Modern.

Meaning.

Alpt

Alps

Swan

Angra-tun

Angertun

Angerton

Bay-town

Armingja-vadh

(cf. Ermyngthweit)

Armboth

Poor-folk's-wath

Arna-sidha

Arneside

Arnside

Ami's hillside

Aska-heim

Askhome

Askam

Ash-home

Asmundar-lja

Asmunderlawe

Osmotherley

Asmund's lea

Aur-grof

Ourgrave

Orgrave

Clay-pit

Baesinga-brunnr

Bassingburne

Baisbrown

Outlaw's well

Bakka-borg

Backbarrovv

Bank-burg

Barr-ey

Barray

Barrow

Barley-isle

Bas-fold

Bousfield

Byre-field

Beyka-stadhr

Bowkerstead

Cooper's stead

Birk-hryggr

Birkrigg

Birch ridge

Blar vidhr

Blawyth

Blawith

Blue wood

Bid tjorn

Blea tarn

Blue tarn

Blatt vatn (or vatr)

Blea water

Blue water

Bla vik

Blowick

Blue Bay

Bleikr holmr

Blake holm

Yellow holm

Borgar-dalr

Borcheredale

Borrowdale

Burg-dale

Borgar-tun

Borch

Broughton

Burg-town

Brautar-kjarr

Bottocar

Bethecar

Road-copse

Brautar-vatn

Broader water

Brothers-water Road-water

Brekku-myrr

Brackmere

Thirlmere

Motehill-mere

Brim-fell (from its form)

Brim fell

Breaking-wave fell

Brott-haugr

Brotto

Road-howe

Budh

Bowth

Bouth

Booth

312

Old Norse.

Medieval.

Modern. Meaning.

Bygg-land

Bigland Barley-land

Dai-tun

Daltun

Dalton Dale-town

Djupr dalr

Depedale

Deepdale Deep dale

Dokkra

Docwra

Dockwray Dark nook

Drjiig-myrr

Droomer Drelgh-mire

Dunna-dalr (?)

Dundersdale

Dunnerdale Wild-duck's dale

Dunna-holmr

Dunerholme

Dunnerholm Wild-duck's holm

Elra-thveit

Ellerthwaite Elder-thwaite

Eng

(Hall-) inge

Ings Meadow

Epla-thveit

Aplethwate

Applethwaite Apple-thwaite

Esju-dalr

(cf. Eschedale l.o.M.)

Easedale Clay-dale

Fagrt fold

Fairfield Fair-field

Fins-thveit

Finnesthwait

Finsthwaite Fin's thwaite

Fjor-greina-gil

Farragrain-gill Four-branches-gill

Flat-skogr

(cf. Flascoo, Holm)

Flaska Flat wood

Flokka-borg

Flokeberew

Flookburgh Host-burg

Folks-fold

(cf. Foxdale l.o.M.)

Foxfield People's field

Forn-sidha

Fornside

Fornside Ancient seat

Froska-vegr ( ? the

road that jumps)

Froswick Frog's path

Gafl

(cf. Gafl fell Iceland)

Gavel Gable

Gardha-grof

(cf. Grauff l.o.M.)

Gargreave Garth-trench

Gardhar

Guards Garths

Gardh-skogr

Garthscoh

Gascow Garth wood

Geirlods-vardha

Gerleuuorde

? Ireleth Geirlod's beacon

Godha-bjarg

Goadsbarrow Priest's barrow

Godha-thveit

Goathwaite Priest's thwaite

Gras-m^rr

Gresmer

Grasmere Grass-mere

Grettis-thveit

Graythwait

Graythwaite Gretti's thwaite

Grisa-dalr

Grisedale

Guisdale Pigs' dale

Graen hop

Greenup Green inlet

Graenn kambr

Greencomb Green crest

Graenn oddr (or oddi)

Greenodd Green point

Grsenn skogr

Greenscow Green wood

Gunnars-haugr

Gummershow Gunnar's howe

Gryta, Grjota

Greata

Greta Stony river

Gryta-gata

Greetygate Stony path

Hafra-thveit

Haverthwaite

Haverthwaite Oats-thwaite

Hakonar-setr

Haukenshead

Hawkshead Hakon's seat

Hall-stadhr

Hallstead Rock-stead

Hamal's setr

Hamelsate

Ambleside Hamal's seat

Hat kot

Hawcott

Hawcoat High cott

Hauks-vollr

Hawkswell Hawk's field

Heidha-thveit

Heathwaite Heath-thwaite

Hjalmr

High Haume and Heli

in Crag Helmet

Hjorts-h6p

Harteshopp

Hartsop Hart's inlet

Hlad-steinar

Ladstones Pile-stones

PP

313

Old Norse.

Medieval.

Mndfrn.

Meaning.

Hol-bekkr

Holebeck

Hollow-beck

H6la-kjarr

Holker

Knoll-copse

H611-thveit

Hoathwaite

Knoll-thwaite

Horgs-hlidh

(Same in Iceland)

Arklid

Holy-place fellside

Hramns-ey

(cf. Ramsey, l.o.M.)

Ramsey

Raven's isle

Hramns-sidha

Rammesheved

Rampside

Raven's seat

Hreins-bjarg

Rainsbarrow

Reindeer's crag

Hreysa-thveit

Raisethwaite

Cairn-thwaite

Hrossa-thveit

(cf. Rozefell, l.o.M.)

Rosethwaite

Horse-thwaite

Hunda-haugr

Hundhow

Hound's howe

Hvalla-thveit

Wallthwaite

Wallthwaite

Hill-thwaite

Hvalla-tun

Walletun

Walton

Hill-town

Hvelps-sidha

Quelpsat

Whelpside

Whelp's seat

Ikorna-thveit

Yccornethewayt

Ickenthwaite

Squirrels'-thwaite

lilt bal

111 Bell

Evil beacon

Jarls-sidha

Yerlisyde

Yarlside

Earl's seat

Jatgars-hlidh

Eadgarslithe

Adgarley

Edgar's fellside

Kalfa-gardhr

Calvgarth

Calgarth

Calves' garth

Kaup-rond

(cf. Cowper Cumb.)

Cowprond

Traders' shore

Keldu-ra

Keldray

Well-nook

Ketels-veggr

(cf. Ketelton, Kelton)

Keswick

Ketel's wall

Kirkju-baer

Cherchebi

Kirkby

Church-farm

Klapparnes-gata

Clappersgate

lutting-rock road

Kleif

Clayf

Claife

Cliff

Klifa-tun

Clivertune

Cleverton

Cliff-town

Kolla-tun

Col ton

Colton

Town on a peak

Kolla-vidhr

Colwith

Wood on a peak

Kollr

Caw

Peak

Konungs-a

Consey

Cunsey

King's river

Konungs-haed

Cunningsheved

Conishead

King's headland

Konungs-tun

Connyngeston

Coniston

King's town

Kotts-stiga-kambr

(Casticand, Camdeii)

Catstycam

Cat's-path-crest

Langidalr

Langedene

Langdale

Long dale

Latra-bjarg

(same in Iceland)

Latterbarrow

Lair-crag

Laudha-fors

(cf. Lowther)

Lodore

Foam-force

Laufa-veggr

Laufwic

Lowick

Leaf-wall

Laun-ska"li

Lon scale

Lone-shed

La"-vatn

Low water

Shallow water

Leyni-brekka

Lenibrick

Covert-brink

Lin-dalr

Lin dale

Lindal

Flax-dale

Log-hryggr

Lochrigg

Loughrigg

Lake-ridge

Log-berg

Legbarrow

Law-burg

Log-borgar-thveit

Legburthwaite

Law-burg-thwaite

Lundr

Lund

Grove

Lyng-m6r

Lyngemouthe

Lingmoor

Ling-moor

Mana-hryggr

(c.f. Mansergh)

Mansriggs

Moon's-ridge

Old Norse.
Mela-fell
Mosi-dalr
Maeri-holl
Maer-tun
Nauta-dalr
Ny-borgar-thveit

Orma-thveit

Orms-gil

Qrrostu-haed

Osp

Oxna-fell

Polla-vik

RjC

Raudhr vollr

Rauds-ey

Raudh skn'dha

Reyd-a"

Reynis-hals

Rolfs-land

Rolfs-setr

Ruga-dalr

Runna-haed

Saeta-haugr

Saeta-thveit

Sand-gate

Sand-skdli

Saudha-gata

Saudha-stadhr

Saur-baer

Seta-h611

Skla-gil

Skalar

Skala-vidhr

Skardha-thveit

Skridha-thveit

Stafa-hlidh

Steina-hlidh

Stein-tun

Stein-vegr

Stikill

Sumar-holl

Svartr mor

Svina-brekka

Sydhri-borgar-thveit

Mediceval.

Meretun

Newburthwait
Newbigging
Neutun
Ormathwaite

Oxynfelde

Routha

Wreneshals

Rolesland

Rydale
Ronhed

Saterthwait

Sandescale
Soutergate

Sourebi

Scales

Skelwith

Skafthwait

(c/'. Stavenerge
Staynerleth
Steintun
Stanwick

Swartmore
Swenebrec

Modern*

Meaning.

Mellfell

Bent-grass fell

Mosedale

Moss-dale

Merry hall

Border-hall

Marton

Border-town

Naddale

Neats'-dale

Nibthwaite

New-burg-thwaite

Newbiggin

New settlement

Newton

New town

Ormathwaite

Snakes' thwaite

Ormsgill

Orm's gill

Orrest head

Battle headland

Esps

Aspen

Oxenfell

Oxen-fell

Poolwyke

Pool-bay

Wray

Nook

Rathvale

Red-field

Roudsey

Raud's isle

Red Screes

Red scree

Rotha

Trout-river

Wrynose

Pass of the rowan

Rusland

Rolf's land

Rosset

Rolf's seat

Rydal

Rye-dale

Roanhead

Grove-headland

Satterhow

Chalet-howe

Satterthwaite

Chalet-thwaite

Sandgate

Path over sands

Sandscale

Sand-shed

Soutergate

Sheep-path

Southerstead

Sheep-stead

Sowerby

Mud-farm

Seatle

Seat-hill

Scalegill

Shed-gill

Scales

Sheds, halls

Skelwith

Shed-wood

Scathvvaite

Gap-thwaite

Scrithwaite

Scree-thwaite

Staveley

Staff-hillside

Stennerley

Stony hillside

Stainton

Stone-town

Stenock

Stone-way

Stickle

Peak

Summerhill

Pasture-hill

Swarthrnoor

Swart moor

Sunbrick

Swine-brink

Subberthvvaite

South-burg-thwaite

315

Old Norse.

Mediaeval.

Modern.

Meaning.

Tangi

Tongue

Tongue

Throng

Thrang

Narrow pass

Throng-kelda

fons de Trankcld

Trinkeld

Narrow well

Thorolfs-kelda

Thirilkelde

Threlkeld

Thorolf's well

Thyrni-thveit

Thornthvvaite

Thorn-thwaite

Tjald-borgar-thveit

Tilderburghthwait

Tilberthwaite

Tent-burg-thwaite

Trodha-bekkr

Truttebeck

Troutbeck

Pasture-beck

Ulfa-jC

Ulfay

Ulpha

Wolves'-water

Ulfa-dalr

Ulldale

Yewdale

Wolves'-dale

Ulfa-knutr

Woolknot

Wolves'-rock

Ulfa-skardh

Ullscarf

Wolves'-gap

Ulfars-tun

Ulvrestune

Ul version

Ulfar's town

Ulfs-vatn

Ullswater

Ulf's lake

Urdha-veggr

Ursewic

Urswick

Stone- walls

Vala-bjarg

Wallabarrow

Hawks'-crag

Vanga-thveit

Wanthwaite

Garden-thwaite

Vatns-hladha

Wattenland

Watendlath

Barn by the water

Vedhra-hjalmr

(clouded before rain)

Wetherlam

Weather-helmet

Veit-heim

Waitham

Ditch-howe

Ve-skogr

(near " Druid circle."

Wescow

Temple-wood

Vidha-haugr

Wythow

Wood-howe

Vik-hus

Wykehouse

Bay-house

Many of these names deserve further explanation and
illustration, and some may be thought doubtful. The
confusion between vegr, road, and veggr, wall ; hlidh,
fellside, and hlidh, gate; and that between setr, seat,
satr, chalet, sfdha, countryside, and heed, head, must be
allowed for.

NOTES TO THE STORY.

Frontispiece and Title. The two pages together give the
view from Lake-bank at the foot of Coniston Water, to il-
lustrate pp. 67, 68. Over Thorstein's head is the Old Man ;
in the middle of the lake is Peel Island (p. 261,) above
it, Fairfield, with Helvellyn (pp. 119, 288,) to the left.
Under Helvellyn is Yewdale crag, with the White Lady
(p. 117). Between Helvellyn and Fairfield is Grizedale
Hause (p. 300). Under Fairfield is Nab Scar (p. 51).
The lower points are easy to recognise. The frames of
the views are imitated from Norse doorways ; the design
over the title illustrates p. 142.

316

P. I. Bardi Ottanon : slain 913 according to the
Ulster Annals (Johnstone, Antiq. Celto-Normannicae, p.
66) or 914, Sir J. Ware's Antiq. Hibernicae (op. cit. p. 77).
Skene (Celtic Scotland, I. p. 347) reads Barid mac
n- Octir, and explains " son of Ottir." I suppose Barid
(Johnstone's Barred) is Irish for Bardi ; and that the
headquarters of this viking were near the scene of the
action, i.e., in Man, which had been deserted some 30
years before, in the time of Harald's invasion (Reims-
kringla, Harald, c. 22).

Ketil Flatnose is named as one of the settlers in Ice-
land who had been christened (Landnamabok). By
other accounts he died in the South-isles (Eyrb. Saga, c.
5). He is, however, by no means an easy subject for a
biographer; compare Skene (Celt. Scot. I. p. 312,) with
Eyrb. Saga, c. I.

P. 2. Unna, Una, Unn. Aud, Ketel's daughter, is so
called by Dasent (Burnt Njal, II. p. 240). Another Unn
was her grand-daughter (Eyrb. c. 7). Another Una is
mentioned in Grettis Saga, c. 3, as having a cousin
Konal ; which connects the name with Ireland and
suggests Fin McCoul's Oonagh and Spenser's Una.

P. 2. Ragnwald; variously spelt and corresponding to
Ranald, Ronald and Reginald, was one of the grand-sons
of Ivar, who play so great a part in the period that it is
perhaps worth giving a pedigree of the chief names, for
reference throughout the story. Ragnwald himself is
important because discrepancies in various accounts of
his death have been used by partisan writers to throw
doubt on the Commendation of Scotland to Eadward.
His biography is, however, no more confused than any
other for which we have to gather materials from widely
divergent sources.

He attacks Barid at the Isle of Man 913 or 914 :
seizes Waterford 916 (Ulster Annals,) and is driven out
by the Irish 918. He is, perhaps, the Hroald (Ronald)
who comes with Ohtor (Ottar jarl) from Brittany to
attack Wales, 918 (A.-S. chron.) or 915 (Florence of
Worcester). Beaten off, he goes home to Ireland, and

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hence with Ottar and Osulf Cracabam or Cracaban,
(" Kraki's bane"?) he attacks Scotland : Symeon of
Durham (Ed. Hodgson Hinde, p. 63,) says he ravaged
" Dunbline " in 912 ; the anonymous history of St.
Cuthbert (op. ell. p. 147,) makes him conquer the Scots
at " Corebricge " ; the Ulster Annals give him an im-
portant victory, in 917 (Ed. Johnstone,) or 918 (Ed.
Skene, " Chronicles of the Picts and Scots " ;) the
Pictish Chronicle (same vol. p. 9,) makes the battle at
" Tinemore," and Ragnwald beaten ; the " wars of the
Gaedhil and Gaill " kill him off, along with Ottar;
others let him escape. Skene tries to reconcile these
accounts (Celtic Scotland, I. pp. 347, 348,) but refuses
to make a similar attempt for the rest of the story.

Leaving Scotland he invades Bernicia and then Deira ;
and takes York, 923 (A.-S. Chron.) or 919 (Symeon,
corrected and confirmed by Hodgson Hinde, preface p.
lii). The Saxon Chronicle says he was one of the kings
who commended themselves to Eadward, 924; but the
Ulster Annals make him die in 920 (Johnstone,) or 921
(Skene). Skene suggests (Celt. Scot. I. p. 350,) that
Florence ante-dates the Commendation to get Ragnwald
in; Canon Raine (York, p. 37,) adopts the Saxon Chronicle
date, but identifies this Ragnwald with Olaf Cuaran's
ally 20 years later (R. Guthferthson, see pedigree,) and
accounts for his absence by an invasion of France (on
the suggestion of Lappenberg, following Frodoard).

In all this, real events seem to be reported by totally
independent chroniclers, each with his own partisan
bias, and different system of chronology. But one does
not invalidate the other. Ragnwald may well have won
York, attended the Commendation, left York to his
brother Sigtrygg, invaded France and died within a short
time; though whether this was 919-921 or 923-925 may
be left an open question.

P. 4. Norse house, see Dasent's preface to Burnt Njal.
It may be said here that the dress, manners, &c., of the
story are based on sagas or archaeological evidence, com-
pared with Lake District characteristics, which it would

319

be tedious to point out in every instance : as for example

P. 5. Chats, twigs. Long logs : there is a story told
of Coniston Hall, and elsewhere, that when such a log
had been three days burning, whoop ! out flew an owl.

P. ii. Toy boats of chip. " Harald (afterwards Har-
dradi) was sailing chips on the water. Olaf asked him
what they were ; he said they were his war-ships." (St.
Olaf's saga).

P. 13. White linen sark. Anderson (Scotland in Pagan
times : Iron Age, p. 30) shows linen smoothers of glass,
used in getting up vikings' shirts.

P. 18. Howe ; Eyrb. 38, and Magnusson's Note, p.
277. The path is through the wood over the railway
station.

P. 20. Arnold's-by, Arnolby (temp. Ed. I.) Arnaby.

P. 21. Sigurd's horg Sigarith-erge (temp. Ric. I.)
Sizergh.

Donal: Duvenaldus filius Ede rex eligitur (Pictish
Chronicle) i.e., Domhnaill or Donal mac Aedh, brother
of Constantine ; reigned over Strathclyde and Cumbria
about 908-925.

Cartmel, given by Ecgfrith to St. Cuthbert 677, " with
the Britons on it."

Halfdan. A coin of " HALFDAN REX " found at Castle-
head, Grange, suggests that his conquest was wide-
spread.

P. 22. Ketel, supposed founder of Kelswick on the
Solway.

Dundraw (c.f. Dunderrow, Ireland,) *' hill of oaks."

P. 23. Sigtrygg ; see pedigree. In the English form
Sihtric. " 919. Sigtrygg m' Ivar by the Divine power was
forced to leave Dublin " (Ulster Annals) ; he came to
Deira, and succeeded Ragnwald at York.

P. 24. Manchester taken by Eadward 923 (A.-S.
Chron.)

P. 25. Bakewell. Eadward " went into Peakland to

Bakecanwell and commanded a town to be built nigh

thereunto, and manned. And then chose him to father

and to lord the Scots king and all the Scots' people, and

320

Raegnald, and Eadulf's son, and all those who dwell in
Northumbria as well English as Danes, and Northmen.
and others, and eke the Strathclyde Welshmen's king
and all the Strathclyde Welsh " (A.-S. Chron. 924 ;
Florence, 921). As Freeman (Norman Conquest, I. p.
578) points out, it is not said that the Commendation
took place at Bakewell ; bat the text suggests it, enough
at least for the purpose of a story. Sigtrygg is not
named, but implied among the Danes. The mention of
Northmen, as distinguished from Danes, indicates that
Norse vikings were already settled in what is now the
North of England, and such a settlement could hardly
have been any other than ours on Solway and More-
cambe Bay.

P. 30. Death of Eadward, 924 or 925 (A.-S. Chron,
&c.)

P. 31. Pennington: the Castle hill is described by Mr.
H. Swainson Cowper (Ancient Settlements, &c., of Fur-
ness, Archasologia, Vol. LIII.) The name shows it to
be Anglian, the settlement of the family of Paeninga,
Penning, Penny, and therefore pre-Norse. Swarthmoor
is so named before Martin Schwartz, though the origin
of the name is only a guess.

P. 37. Eathgita, Roger of Wendover, 925.

P. 41. AtMstan. William of Malmesbury describes
him (II. 6). In this "saga" the Norse form is used
instead of ^Sthelstan, as Sigtrygg for Sihtric, &c. Ead-
ward, however, and Eadmund correspond to the Norse
Jatvard, Jatmund.

P. 52. Donal, Donevaldus, d. 908, was the last king of
Strathclyde claiming Roman descent (Skene, Celtic
Scotland, I. p. 346.)

P. 53- City of Helvellyn, Wythburri. The cyclopean
wall of this " wide-borran " is now partly submerged.
One section of it is taken to be the remains of a circle
by the Rev. S. Barber, " Beneath Helvellyn's Shade."

P. 55. Picts of Galloway, read " Gaels of Scotland,"
if the view be taken that all Picts were Ivernian.

P. 55-60. Dacor, Dacre, so spelt (Bede, Ecc. Hist.
QQ 321

IV. 32,) to disconnect the name from the false etymology
D'Acre. The Rev. Canon Mathews and the Rev. W. S.
Calverley, F.S.A., (Trans. C. & W. Antiq. Soc., Vol. XI.
Art. 18,) are followed as to the origin of the Dacre stone.
The place of meeting, Emont, is a well-known crux. The
initial is from an original sketch, with the plait down the
edge of the stone turned into the curve of the D. Prof.
George Stephens (Northern Mythology, S, 13,) considers
that the Hart symbolizes Christ. The dedication of the
church points to Wilfrith as founder.

P. 59. Peaceful settlement of Northmen, see the Rev. T.
Ellwood (Landnamabok, pp. iii, iv). The law of Athel-
stan is given in Wilkin's Leges A.-S., quoted by Raines
(Lancashire, I. p. 52).

P. 64. Signy and Sigmund, Volsunga Saga, 7.

P. 69. Anglo-cymric Score, Rev. T. Ellwood (Trans.
Cumb. Assoc. VIII. p. 97.)

P. 72. Thingstead at Fellfoot, Thingvollr on map, p.
50; described by Mr. H. S. Cowper (Trans. C. & W.
Antiq. Soc., XL p. i).

Guthferth's invasion: A.-S. Chron. and Wendover, 927 ;
Skene, Celtic Scotland, I. p. 251. William of Malmesbury,
II. 6, makes him G. Sigtryggson, but Guthferth O'lvar
was then king of Dublin (Ulster Annals).

P. 74. Olaf Cuaran's marriage, Florence, 938. It may
have been brought about by the invasion of Scotland
mentioned under 931 in a fragment of Irish annals
(Chron. P. & S. p. 407).

P. 76. Iceland Althing founded 929 or 930 (Landn.t

P. 79. Ravaging of Scotland, A.-S. Chron. and Wen-
dover, 933 ; Florence, 934.

P. 92. Heathwaite Settlement, described by Mr. H. S.
Cowper (Ancient Settlements, &c., of Furness). He does
not, however, accept the beehive hut, which I think I
see in one of the cairns: nor is he responsible for the
notion that the place was inhabited in the loth century.
The legend though legends are not evidence suggests
that it was inhabited down to times of which local
memory takes notice, i.e., to the colonization of the
322

neighbourhood by the ancestors of present inhabitants.
And the fell-folk of Heathwaite could not have been kin
to their neighbours in the dales, or they would not
have been looked on as giants. The Rev. F. Evans, of
Diversion, found calcined bones in the "Giant's Grave,"
from which Dr. Barber (Furness and Cartmel Notes, p.
35,) thinks that it was a Viking interment. And yet
there must have been Gaels, as well as Cymry, in the
district, especially in the wilder parts, as shewn by a
few Gaelic names ; and these Caledonian Gaels seem to
have been distinguished by their tallness and their red
hair, like Ironhook in Kingsley's " Hereward."

P. 112. The Brough, Borch, Borg, at Broughton, pos-
sibly an early fortress.

P. 113. Confederation of Dublin Danes, Scots and
Cumbrians, 937, leading up to Brunanburh.

P. 119. Armboth Settlement has been previously men-
tioned by Mr. W. Wilson (Trans. Cumb . and West.
Assoc., IX. p. 62). These rectangular buildings, similar
to others in the district, generally near Roman roads,
connected with cairns, and in this case with a British
fort; certainly not sheep-folds nor peat-sheds, seem to
be post-Roman, and may have been inhabited at this
time by " poor-folk," Armings ; whence perhaps the
name Armboth.

P. 126. Domhnaill, so spelt to distinguish him from
previous Donals, is called by Roger of Wendover Dum-
mail, and in local tradition Dunmail. The legend is
that he loved a "fairy" in the Thirlmere valley;
exchanged his torque for her ring ; deserted her for a
beautiful captive ; and was led to destruction by her
vengeance. He was, historically, king from about 937
to 945 or 946, when Eadmund defeated him and put out
his sons' eyes (Wendover, 946). He seems to have
regained some portion of his power, perhaps as sub-king
to Malcolm or leader of Gall-gaedhil in Demetia (Pem-
brokeshire.) He may be the Donvald, father of Andarch
in 971 (Skene, Celt. Scot. I. p. 367) and the Dufnall of
Florence (corruptly Dusual in Wendover) who was one

323

of the Celtic kings at Chester in 973. St. Cadroe visited
him before his fall (Vita St. C. in Chron. Picts and
Scots, p. 116,) and he died on pilgrimage to Rome 975
(Ulster Annals, and Annals of Tighernac).

P. 127. Mineralogy of Cockrigg gill. Of the Armboth
and Helvellyn dyke, Mr. Clifton Ward (Geol. of the
Northern Lakes, p. 34) says : " In a dull red felspathic
base are numerous crystals of pink felspar and quartz,
together with sparsely scattered green mica, and some
of the same soft, steatitic-looking mineral as in the St.
John's quartz felsite." He mentions (p. 103) how this
dyke creates "doors" or chasms.

P. 131. The mysterious fire, immense and yet uncon-
suming, is one of the forms of the well-known Dalehead
" Boggle" ; like other such appearances, a piece of wide-
spread folklore, localized at this point, which is rich in
ghosts.

P. 141. Birches. Where heather is, birches grew,
and the roots are visible. The rolling forms of Kirkfell
etc., are remarkable from Ullscarf, as are the monstrous
shapes of boulders and hummocks near Bleatarn. But
the blue railings of the Manchester Corporation boundary
discount the romance, unless you get very tired and
hungry, and meet a thunderstorm.

P. 162. Fox and Geese. I have taken some liberty
with the pieces in the picture. The " fox-game " was
played with 12 lambs and a fox (Magnusson's Note to
Grettis Saga, 70). The pieces were, however, carved as
animals : see figures in Du Chaillu's Viking Age, II. p.
354, and elsewhere.

P. 183. Orkney dynasty: Orkneyinga Saga. I.

P. 184. Thora's connections: Combining the above with
Eyrb. (Magnusson's Genealogy,) we get the pedigree
opposite.

P. 1 86. Hakon the good. For his life and character
see Heimskringla, Hakon, 6, n, 15-18, 32.

P. 191. Bishop Aelfheah or Elphege the Bald, a rela-
tive of Dunstan, bishop of Winchester 935-951 (Florence).
Roger of Wendover gives legendary details.

324

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P. 192. Eric at York has been thought unhistorical ;
but mention of the fact is given by such independent
witnesses as A.-S. Chron. 948 ; Florence, 949 ; Symeon
of Durham, Hist. Reg. 948; and Hist. Cont. sub. ann.
1072 ; Roger of Wendover, 950 ; Heimskringla, Hakon,
3 ; Egils Saga, 72 ; Life of St. Cadroe (Chron. P. and S.
p. 116).

P. 214. Eadmitnd and E'/ic: Hakon, 4. Invasion o
Olaf, A.-S. Chron. and Florence 941 ; and Symeon 940;
from whose accounts it is clear that Wendover is wrong
in making the leader on this occasion to be Olaf Cuaran.
For the road by which the invasion was made see Skene,
Celt. Scot. I. p. 361.

P. 216. Athacliath, the Celtic name, which Domhnaill
would use, for Dublin.

P. 225. Doordooin, hence the dialect durdotn, uproar.
The regulations mentioned are given by Magnusson,
Note to Eredweller's Story, p. 275. Whittlegate, " knife-
road," free play to one's knife; and (p. 243) addle w. " to
earn board," from odhlaz, to earn. Hold up, to clear;
cf. " das Wetter heilt sich auf."

P. 230. Hundred of silver, i.e., 120 ells of cloth paid
in silver; about 4 los. in our money, but worth much
more where coin was scarce (Dasent, Burnt Njal,
Appendix).

P. 244. Abbot of York. The dignitary now called
" Dean" was styled Abbas (Raine, York, p. 166).

P. 247. Death of Olaf, Symeon and Wendover, 941.

P. 249. Marriage of Olaf, Wendover, 940.

P. 252, St. Peter's, Raine, York, p. 187.

P. 253. AelberhVs minster, built 8th century after a
fire ; restored after the capture by the Danes (Raine,
York, p. 148).

P. 260. Peel Island. The traces of building marked
on the map have been partly excavated by the present
writer, but it would be premature to offer any definite
opinion on their age. The place seems to have been
fortified.

P. 288. The Host of Weird. A spectre army, as
326

described in the story, was seen on Helvellyn on the
eve of the Battle of Marston Moor. On Midsummer
Eve, 1735, and again on Midsummer Eve, 1737 and 1745,
similar effects were seen on Souter Fell, to the imme-
diate north of the Helvellyn range. In the last case
some of the rebel forces were exercising on the Scotch
coast, and it was explained by the Lonsdak Magazine that
the movements of the troops had been reflected " by
some transparent vapour similar to the fata morgana"
(Survey of the Lake District, Miss Harriet Martineau,
in Whellan's Cumberland and Westmorland). In our
story, Eadmund's advance on Threlkeld sufficiently
accounts for the mirage.

P. 291. Eadrnund, " with the aid ot Leoling, king of
South Wales, ravaged the whole of Cumberland and put
out the eyes of the two sons of Dummail, king of that
province. He then granted that kingdom to Malcolm,
king of the Scots, to hold of himself, with a view to
defend the northern parts of England from hostile inva-
sions by sea and land," Wendover, 946: the A.-S. chron.
and Florence make it 945 : Welsh annals give 944 and
946. All suggest that the whole business was a puni-
tive expedition to clear the north-western coast of
Viking settlers, and to provide against attack from that
quarter in future. That it was unsuccessful is seen
from the fact that a similar invasion was made 55 years
later. In 924 the Northmen swore to Eadward; in 945
their settlements were the object of Eadmund's attack ;
in 1000 they were again attacked by Ethelred. These
are the points at which the Norse settlement of the Lake
district comes into contact with general English history,
and is corroborated by it. The third point is accepted
by Mr. Freeman and others ; the first two I think worth
consideration.

P. 303. Eadmund's death, St. Augustine's Day, May
26, 946, at the hands of Leof the robber. In a saga,
the hero must be avenged before the story comes to a
close.

P. 304. Penalties of Wythburn, the bye-laws of an

327

ancient parish parliament held at the Steading Stone :
penalties for turning out too many sheep on the fell,
allowing horses and cattle to stray, defiling the beck,
&c. " A copy of this document is at present (1883) in
the possession of Mr. Graves, ex-Mayor of Manchester,"
(Mr. W. Wilson, Trans. C. & W. Assoc. IX. p. 64).

The Redheads. Throughout the Middle Ages the vil-
lages of High Furness were inhabited by clans, as in
Scotland. Records show that in Henry VIII. 's time at
Nibthwaite all were Redheds (West, Antiq. of Furness,
Ed. 1822, p. 32).

May, 1903.

Mr. Edward Arnold's

New and Popular Books

Telegrams : 37 Bedford Street,

* Scholarly, London.' Strand, London.

NATURE'S LAWS AND THE MAKING
OF PICTURES.

By W. L. WYLLIE, A.R.A.

With over eighty illustrations from drawings by the author, and a few finely executed
reproductions of famous paintings in the National Gallery.

Super Royal ^to> i$s. nett.

The subject of Perspective remains an interesting mystery to the
majority of the picture-loving public, and to not a few artists as well.
The fact is that, although there are a number of excellent and lucid
handbooks upon the subject, the general reader and the student seem
to be attacked too often from the mathematical side the side which to
the artist-nature is the least sympathetic. It is therefore confidently
expected that this lucid volume by so well-known an artist as Mr.
Wyllie will receive a warm welcome. Containing, as it does, a luminous
and exhaustive exposition of a subject of which the author is an
undoubted master, and illustrated by a large number of first-rate
reproductions of his own sketches, specially drawn for this work, the
book should help to make the science of perspective thoroughly
intelligible to all readers, and thus largely facilitate their mastery of the
pictorial art.

LONDON : EDWARD ARNOLD, 37 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.

i

RECOLLECTIONS OF A TOWN BOY
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VICAR OF SEGHILL, NORTHUMBERLAND.

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At the moment of his early death last year Father Dolling was con-
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By G. F. ABBOTT.

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This book treats of a phase of Greek civilization of immense impor-
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Seleucus. There is no modern book, even in German, which makes a
special study of the history of the Seleucid kingdom.

The period is of vital consequence in many ways : (i) A great deal in
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* It is seldom that the critic welcomes a work of so much ambition and achieve
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THE LITTLE RED FISH.

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CHANGES AND CHANCES.

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RECENTL Y PUBLISHED.
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DONNA DIANA.

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8

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THE STOCK EXCHANGE: Its Organisation and

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LIFE ASSURANCE COMPANIES : Their Organisa*

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2 5
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3

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